An Emperor's Hunger
by Bahoogasmif
Summary: When two Sith Lords join Malgus' assault on the Jedi temple during the invasion of Coruscant, they discover something that puts the fate of the force itself in their hands.
1. Coruscant Ablaze

Hey everybody! Bahoogasmif here, presenting to you a collaboration piece with Nozz'ivix on the world of the old republic. All the stories i'd seen on FFnet were about light side jedi, or darksiders turning good, so Nozz and I decided to mix it up a little. Hope you enjoy it, and always remember: Review review review!

* * *

Lord Drakal the Bloodthirsty quivered in anticipation as the shuttle slammed through the Jedi temples massive front doors, the vibrations that made others stumble made him all the more eager. He smiled darkly behind his mask as the shuttle screeched to a halt, and he could feel Darth Malgus' presence beyond the shuttle door just outside. He felt an untold pride at having been handpicked for this assignment, and he was eager to put his skills to the test against the pathetic excuse for force users the Jedi passed off as masters. His smile only deepened at the lack of emotion from Darth Malgus, no fear, no remorse, and certainly no pity. Drakal paced up and down a few times as he mentally counted down the seconds, eagerly awaiting the most exciting moment of his life.

With a heavy bang, the ramp fell from the shuttle, and he had to restrain himself from cackling at the sight of the Jedi's shocked faces. He took the first step forward from the group behind him, his lightsaber already in hand since before the impact. Depressing the button on its hilt, he heard the snap-hiss of the blade fill the silence, illuminating the area in a deep reddish hue. His smile continued to cover his face as he heard the others behind him do the same, and at that moment so many overpowering emotions coursed through him it was impossible to single one out and focus on it, so he simply cracked his neck, and embraced them all.

_Surely this will be my most glorious moment, and the Emperor himself will envy us this day!_

* * *

The siege of the Jedi temple was about to begin, and the marble floors were ready to be slicked in the blood of many a force user, Lord Nozz'Ivix the Stalwart knew this, even without the precognitive abilities lent to him by the Dark Side. While the helmeted pureblood paced back and forth before the blast door, steeped in his rage no doubt, the Rutian Twi'Lek Sith Lord focused his mind as an Echani Blacksmith would one of their prized vibroblades, as it was his greatest weapon against the Jedi. He physically felt the shuttle impact the temple's ancient walls, and mentally felt the great waves of hatred roiling from behind the blast door. Malgus was ready to unleash them on the Jedi in their own home. A brazen act even the great Naga Sadow would appreciate. Nozz'Ivix drew on all of his arcane Sith knowledge and allowed his ambitions to fuel him as the great door fell, slamming and cracking the intricate mural that once adorned the Temple's marble floor.

When the Jedi were revealed, he couldn't help but allow a smirk to twist his blue lips, Jedi of every race stood slack jawed, some not even having drawn their lightsabres. He felt the shock, anger, and yes, even fear flow from these hardened Jedi Knights. The pacing pureblood at the front ignited his saber, and the rest of the sith followed suit, the refreshing snap-hiss of his lightsaber granting him further focus as he recalled his training. His green blade, the crystal a trophy from his first Jedi kill, lit up among the sea of red, and as the Jedi stood in awe, they charged.

* * *

The Jedi before him leaned out of the path of his swing, narrowly missing the sword point as Lord Drakal's saber singed his robes. His dodge left him off balance however, and he took full advantage of the Human's weakness. Using his overflowing sense of anger, the Sith lord drew upon the force and thrust out a hand towards the mans chest, sending him hurtling backwards and into a group of temple guards. His seething anger would not let him stay still long enough to enjoy the mans pain, and he moved toward the thickest nearby fighting.

He had lost Malgus in the crowd after the initial charge, but even over the din of battle he could sense the scarred man's cold hatred permeating the entire temple. He had killed his fair share of weaklings today, but he felt something around the temple that contested with Malgus' anger, a force of... good? No, that wasn't the word. Perhaps just something that fought against the darkness, but whatever it was, Drakal couldn't help but look around for its source.

Stalking towards the largest battle, never did he run, unless of course the battle was unwinnable, he singled out his next victim amongst the crowd. A jedi who contested with a Twi'Lek in lightly armored robes, both of which had their blades locked together in a contest of might. Bringing his arm back, he flung his saber with a fury, sending it streaking towards the Jedi's chest. Before the man could react and dodge it, the saber was buried deep in his chest, making his eyes bulge as he fell.

Drakal smiled again at all the pain in the room, the dead and dying sent it out in waves, and all the fear they exuded, all of their emotions filled him with joy, and a sense of pure rage. Anyone so weak as to feel this kind of fear was not worth living, and weakness was not to be tolerated. Without looking at the Twi'Lek whom he'd helped, he set out once more to find slaughter before they were all killed. He would enjoy this moment to it's fullest.

* * *

The battle had been glorious; many had fallen to Lord Ivix's blade and many more to his mastery of the force. A Jedi defender fell before him, blackened by lightning, while the emerald sabre impaled another. Calling on the force to quicken his movements, he sprinted from his skirmish to engage another group of Jedi that were recovering from a narrow victory over acolytes fresh from Korriban, cannon fodder. The six Jedi were blasted out of their recuperation as lightning arced from one to the other, and the robed Twi'Lek leaped into their midst, crushing one's ribcage with the Force and handily decapitating another. The third lost his saber arm in a flash of green as the fourth and fifth were thrown into nearby pillars, breaking their spines on impact. The final Jedi proved a challenge, the master of the Jedi recently annihilated, Lord Ivix could feel the anger boil off him as his blue saber flashed. Green connected with blue over and over as they clashed, they proved equal until a bright red saber blossomed in the Jedi's chest.

As the Master fell, his tightly restrained rage still in his dying eyes, Lord Ivix looked to the source of the quick victory. The pacing pureblood from before had just caught his thrown lightsaber before pausing, seemingly to sniff the air, and leaping to his next fight. Realizing that there was yet glory to win, the Rutian Sith followed his example, moving off to engage yet more Jedi. They came as wheat before a thresher, each new death a ripple in the force. Quite a few Sith deaths were felt, but they were quickly overwhelmed by the Jedi losses, as if one were to try and watch a pebble drop into a pond during a rainstorm. It was chaos, the Dark Side in its pure form, the very essence of creation and destruction, alpha and omega. And Lord Nozz'Ivix was one with it.

A great many Jedi had fallen, but the tide was unending, more poured into the great hall, many still apprentices equipped with training sabers. He struck them down as they came, but Lord Nozz'Ivix felt a disturbance. He turned to see the Sith from before striking madly at the Jedi, without noticing another, his lightsaber ablaze, flying in from the Sith's blind spot. Without thinking, the Rutian Lord flung a bolt of lightning from his fingers, blasting the Jedi backwards and through an already damaged wall.

The pureblood Sith impaled his final victim before looking at the source of the attack. Seeing Ivix was the one who had done it, he sneered and left without another look, chasing after the Jedi through the newly made hole and into the next chamber of the temple. Ivix followed, the second stage of the siege had begun.

* * *

Dashing through the jagged hole a jedi had made with his own body, Lord Drakal spun around in a circle, searching, no, _daring_ there to be more enemies in his path. But seeing the room clear of threats, he finally took in his surroundings.

The room he'd jumped into was the famous Jedi archive, thousands of texts, teachings and instructions all divvied up nicely in some order he cared nothing for. The blue glow that the room cast from all the holo-records clashed with his still alight red saber held tightly in his hand, and once again he felt the call from before. The force rippled, only a slight movement to be felt, and the only reason he felt it at all was due to having no enemies to focus his anger on, making him a little less enraged. Walking further into the room, it's silence felt almost deafening compared to the chaos still going on outside, and the ripples he felt were coming from further in the temple and away from the battle. A spike of annoyance coursed through him at that, he should be fighting, enjoying each and every last scream of the doomed Jedi order, but instead he was perusing some dusty old library in search of Emperor-knew what.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of boots hitting the floor behind him, and he spun around with his saber ready to strike. He held his rage in check however, when the same Twi'Lek from before looked him up and down. Deactivating his saber, Drakal spun on his heel and kept moving towards the strange aura, talking over his shoulder.

"I suppose you want in on this too, but I warn you now, take something that I want, and I'll kill you."

* * *

The Sith's words were like the edge of a blade, a true practitioner of the more vicious aspects of the dark side, yet it stirred none of it's intended effects in Lord Nozz'Ivix.

"Noted. But if you touch but one of these records, you so much as breath on a holocron, and I will flay your flesh from your bones."

"Records? Is that why you're here then? Fine, I don't care for those anyway. I'm here for... something else. Just stay out of my way, and we'll be fine."

Ivix clenched his saber, the end of the curved hilt resting on his wrist, before launching forward, the warrior following suit. With the main regiments of Jedi preoccupying the sith, only the Archive masters remained, Jedi long past their prime, but still potent in the force, milled around the holo-books, attempting to save what they could from the ongoing Sith attack. Upon seeing the approaching invaders, they all drew their lightsabers, igniting them for what was likely the first, and last, time in decades. The two Sith were upon them like rabid Kath hounds, tearing into the aging jedi. The Warrior made heavy use of acrobatics and saber manuevers, while Ivix was content to rely on the force first and foremost, bloodying his lighsabre to finish them.

The librarians were vanquished in moments, the Jedi's best scholars reduced to mauled piles of burnt corpses and robes. The two continued onward towards the most heavily lauded prize in Republic Space. The Holocron Archive.

* * *

Drakal and his temporary companion walked through vast walls of holo-records, mountains of data just begging to be burned. But he resisted his urge to see the jedi squirm, and kept on his target. The strange aura was definitely growing stronger the further they went, and despite the likelihood of these being their most prized possessions, very little resistance was to be found. They had slaughtered the first group of course, making short work of what had once been true masters, and the fact left him smiling. But tempering his smile was his newfound partner. Glancing at the Twi'lek from the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but sneer, the alien probably thought himself an equal or better, but he ignored it for now. The man would learn soon enough.

Refocusing his attention on the area ahead, they soon found their quick pace had lead them into a narrow corridor, the source of the power lay behind the door at the end... and behind two more jedi guardians, clad in heavily armored robes. The two stood at attention, making ready for their inevitable last stand against the other Sith who were likely to come in behind them. The two ignited their sabers as himself and the Twi'lek came to a stop a few meters away, the staring contest that ensued might have been funny if not for the fact that they were sizing each other up to kill. Glancing at his companion, he thrust his chin out to indicate the one on the left, before giving a wicked smile and leaping into the fight.

* * *

They had already defeated the brains of the Jedi, now came the brawn. The two guardians, raised from childhood to fight, indoctrinated into the pithy mantra of the Jedi Order. While the librarians had been old and decrepit, these Jedi were in the prime of their lives and still had fight in them. Before a plan of action could be relayed, the impetuous Warrior had leaped at the left guardian, leaving the right to Lord Ivix. He began with a feint, firing a force push at the Jedi before swiftly launching into a lateral saber strike that was easily caught on the Guardian's blue blade. He was face to face with the Jedi now, and he could feel the anger on the young man, contained, controlled.

_Manipulatable. _

"You like my saber?" Ivix huffed slightly as the two stared at each other over locked sabers. "The crystal was a gift. A Jedi was kind enough to donate it to me, after I slowly tortured him for weeks on end. 'Twas truly a wonderful time, I had no idea humans could survive without limbs for so long." The mere thought of a Jedi being slowly killed was enough to anger the guardian, who lashed out, leaving himself open to a full lightning barrage and falling to his knees. "Yes, kneel worm! Know that the Sith are supreme!" He laughed as he removed the -now crispier- guardian's head from his shoulders

* * *

Drakal laughed behind his helmet, the sound carried through the mask, but it was deeper and muffled, making the sound even more terrifying. The Guardian he fought, however, did not seem affected. The fact that he didn't even seem to have _any _expressions or thoughts was enough to make Drakal's fury boil up to its utmost point, boosting his powers… and his lust for blood.

Striking out with a feint for the Jedi's legs, he waited for the split second of the mans weakened defenses and lashed out with a push. He only barely blocked Drakal's assault as he stumbled backwards from the combined attack.

"You dare stand in _**my**_ way? You? I have struck down kings, Sith lords! You will_** die!**_"

Once more launching himself at the jedi in a full on assault, throwing all his strength into every slash, every dodge, every single movement coursing in time with his anger. The guardian couldn't help but retreat farther and farther from the doorway he guarded, and the realization dawned in his eyes too late. Dashing past the jedi's attempt to stop him, Drakal made it through the doorway, placing the jedi between both himself, and his Twi'lek ally, of whom stood staring down at a charred and decapitated corpse. Drakal laughed.

"Aw, why the long face jedi? I hope you knew him well, maybe that way the pain will last all that much longer." Taking his time, Drakal slowly strode over to the doorway, making sure the jedi could no longer use it to keep them both at bay.

With a suddenness that surprised even him, Drakal chucked his lightsaber and leapt into the air, all the while building up as much force as his boiling, seething anger would allow. The man blocked the saber, but of course, he was supposed to. Unleashing all his might, the Sith pulled, lifting the guardian off his feet so fast he slammed into the ceiling with a force that left a crater in the intricate carvings, and then hurled him back into the ground, ending the fools life with a sickening crunch of breaking bones. Landing heavily, panting from his exertions, Drakal finally retracted his saber with a flourish.

* * *

The Sith's display was brutal, inefficient, and unprofessional. Like a nexu playing with it's food before devouring it. "How messy." Ivix commented, glancing at the multitude of blood spatters and cracks adorning the once immaculate hallway. "Through here is the entirety of the Jedi's collection... Holocrons. Eons of knowledge, Sith, Jedi, even the free radicals like Jolee Bindo and the Dathomir Witches. Such a glorious prize will add to my collection, and bring much notoriety from within the Dark Council." he inhaled deeply, as one would the smell of their mother's cooking. "Such power is stored here. Forbidden force techniques, and the consciousnesses of thousands of Sith and Jedi masters, ready to teach a new generation."

"Uh huh." The Sith appeared to be focusing on something else, but Ivix ignored him for the time being.

He walked forward, peering at each holocron, scanning each for the knowledge or history he sought, pocketing ones that tickled his fancy. The Sith had wandered off in search of something else, the barbarian darting between shelves of priceless artifacts, his own prize hidden among the small cubes and pyramids. Ivix continued on until he reached an elaborate door, one that had likely been locked for centuries. The carvings upon it were rudimentary to be sure, but the more he saw the clearer the picture became. this foretold the death of the force itself.

He ran his hand across the carvings in wonderment, wishing he'd been the one to have discovered such a prize before reaching for what laid within. He felt a great pull on his mind, and before he thought to resist was sucked from the present and was light years away. He was in a massive underground cavern, three curved pillars reaching upwards. He noticed that the force was... absent. Missing, as if it were sucked from the area, like poison from a wound. Before him stood two figures, a tall man in a black hooded robe, face covered by a traditional death-mask. Across from him stood a woman, enshrouded in a simple brown robe, as worn by Jedi Masters centuries before, her face covered by shadows. The masked one began to speak, a human voice, male, but emitting noises no man should have been capable of. He spoke the ancient language of the dark side, only present in powerful relics of the Dark Side, such as the original Holocrons. It was understandable, if only because of Ivix's extensive studies in history and ancient archeology.

"And this... power, it will sate my hunger?" he hissed, an unnatural noise.

"It will sustain you for a time, apprentice. It is the reason we have trained on the place of your rebirth. Malachor V is a wound in the force, it devours the force, as you shall."

The vision shifted, he was in the same room, but there were changes. The masked man seemed more imposing, powerful, and he was accompanied by a standing corpse. No, a man, held together by the smallest amounts of flesh. The woman from before stood combat ready, lightsaber out and clearly wounded. "You dare betray me?" She yelled, mouth curled into a snarl.

The corpse began to speak, "You are no longer needed, 'master'." He sneered and threw her against a pillar, while the masked man held up a hand. When he lowered it, the woman's force echo was gone; she was empty, completely removed from the force.

The vision shifted again, this time the woman was alone, this time missing a hand and connected to the force by the barest of threads, as if via another. A man entered, and Ivix recognized him, if not by name. He had served under Revan, and was responsible for the victory over Malachor V, the final destruction of the Mandalorians.

"So, you have finally come to kill me, exile. Here in the bowels of Trayus Academy, you will slay me and finally kill the wretched force."

"I have no intention of killing you Kreia." He said simply, his eyes wearier than his age would let on.

"Then I shall kill _you_ to kill the force. Either way, the wretched thing dies." The two masters fought intensely, saber and force techniques not seen since the height of the old Jedi Order, before Kreia finally fell, comforted by the exile, passing peacefully instead of violently, saving both Dark and Light sides of the force.

The vision shifted rapidly after that, dozens of planets: Korriban, a dense jungle moon in orbit of a great civilization with a corrupt past, a ruined enclave with farmsteads dotting the landscape around it, a destroyed planet covered in a shield, a smog choked city planet, and finally, a destroyed asteroid mining colony. He began to feel the force being sucked away, like atmosphere through a tiny hull breach, a curious, alarming anomaly, before the vision ended and he was once more staring at the intricate doorway, his heart beating faster than he normally would have allowed.

_A powerful relic indeed._

* * *

Lord Drakal strode through the rows of useless items the Jedi had collected over their millennia long decay, and the aura he felt was certainly in this room, but it wasn't what he searched for. His eyes lit up after a moment as they fell on his target. A long row of lightsaber crystals in all manner of different types and colors, but mostly the nauseating hues the jedi so loved. He was not interested in those however, his attention was on the deep red crystal that sat towards the end of the row, It's strange glow seemed to draw him forward, speaking to him through the force as he stepped up to it. He closed his eyes, drawing in the essence that seemed to pour through the stone, and using it to regain his lost strength quickly. He felt revitalized just from being near this crystal, and he had never been so glad to steal in his life. He quickly drew his saber from its sheath at his side, then reached out with his mind, soon the saber was completely disassembled, floating over the floor and waiting for his will to make it whole again. Moving the new crystal carefully, he floated it into the correct slot and clicked it into place from behind with a gentle push. After the crystal was in place, it was a simple matter to reconstruct the blade, and it was done in no time.

Parts flew around each other on nothing but air, seeming to be moving of their own accord as they fell into place. With a flourish he grabbed the completed saber from the air and lit it up, showcasing the new dark red blade with a black outline. He couldn't help but smile as he twirled the blade in his hand, and the fact that he'd found a crystal bonded to him alone was worth any amount of pain.

Shutting the saber off once more, he finally went in search of his other reason for being here. The aura that had been contending with the sheer hate given off by Darth Malgus was nearby, and as he retraced his steps back into the main room, he saw his new ally standing in place with his eyes locked forward and one hand against the wall. He raised an eyebrow behind his mask, but the man seemed far too fascinated for his own good. Shaking his head a little, he turned, finding something he very much wanted. A dinner table, quite enticing from the looks of it, had been left by the two guardians from before, and he took his mask off hastily. Setting his mask on the table and sitting down, he started grabbing as much as he could; from meat to gravy, and so much more. It looked as if these men had been eating their last meal.

_Well it certainly looks that way __**now**_. He smiled once more and stuffed a mouthful of Nerf meat into his face with a ferocious appetite.

"Whemever ur dumn overr ther, this foofd is rewally good!" Speaking around a mouthful of food was a talent he had acquired and mastered on Korriban during his academy days, but the Twi'lek didn't even look around.

"Okay, morfe furr me."

* * *

Ivix came to his senses just in time to see the pureblood Sith shoving food past his barbed teeth, face tendrils flapping as he scarfed down food.

"Quiet you gluttonous fool! This wall, it hides a powerful artifact, even you cannot miss its aura. It echoes of times long past, of masters long dead. It whispers of the very death of the force itself!" His Lekku quivered in excitement, the very thought of such knowledge stirring a sense of adventure he hadn't felt since he was an apprentice.

"Oh really? Well it's waited centuries already, so I'm sure it can wait a little longer Twi'lek, and this food is amazing. If there is one good thing I can say about Jedi, it's that they make a mean Nerf steak."

"Reach out to the Relic behind this door. Sealed by the Jedi for centuries... Its power must be immense."

"By the Emperor, do you ever shut up about ancient this, powerful that? Fine, but I already know about this relic, as you said, even a senile Ronto could feel it." The Sith closed his eyes, and stayed silent for a moment, but opened them and shook his head.

"Nothing. Whatever you saw, I don't feel anything but stone."

"Are you truly so blind?" With this he took an action that would have even surprised his old master. Ivix thrust his saber into the ancient engraving, removing it from the wall in two deft strokes. Revealing an incredible holocron.

"Amazing, it appears to be a combination of both Jedi and Sith designs, angular, yet solid at once. Light and Dark, yet respectful of neither!" he marveled as he ran a hand over it but he sith just rolled his eyes and went back to his meal, quickly losing interest.

Tutting at the ignorant barbarian 'pureblood', Ivix went about activating the Holocron, which emitted a bright light and displayed an image of the hooded woman from the vision, her very consciousness imprinted on the device. He felt his eyes bulge before he could stop them, and inhaled sharply in excitement as the figure began to speak.

"I am Darth Traya, and Jedi Master Kreia, the lord of betrayal, betrayed many times. My secrets are many, and none may learn them until the time is right. I speak of course, of devouring the force itself. If you are Jedi, you are desperate. Be you sith, well done. The temple is not an easy place to conquer."

With this, the Holocron flickered off, the tricky mind within unwilling to share it's secrets at that point. Ivix pocketed the device in a separate pouch from the many other Jedi and Sith Holocrons. Noting his prize's importance, he called upon a rare technique; he shrank the collected Holocrons presence in the force to that of a pea, one unnoticeable in the background noise of his own, and continued his search through the vast treasure trove of artifacts with a small smile.

_This will make a fine prize indeed._


	2. What Goes Around

What Comes Around...

With the holocrons hidden, Lord Ivix pulled his lightsaber and sprinted back towards the archive's new entrance, the impetuous warrior trailing just behind, his new red blade held low to the ground and he seemed more than eager to test it out..

As they rounded the corner to the Holo-record room, three figures blocked their path. Three Jedi, each radiating a great amount of power and their threatening postures made him and the sith skid to a halt. The front one stepped forward, blade raised. "I am master Ell, by the blood of my ancestors, you will not abscond with their charge, that item's creator slew the entire Jedi council, including my ancestor, sucking the force right from their bodies. The betrayer will never leave this archive. Master Vash, Lamar, block the exit. These sith will not get the betrayer's holocron past us."

The Jed I charged, sabers poised to destroy the two lords, who deftly blocked and parried, but lost ground quickly. The Jedi were much stronger than the others they had faced, each working in tandem, a perfect battle-meld using telepathic coordination with the force. The lords were eventually backed into a wall as they defended for all they were worth, but the outcome was becoming more and more apparent. They stopped in a semi-circle, blocking any escape, the masters approached and Ell began to speak. "Her teachings will destroy the force, we cannot let this happen. We will kill you, if we must. As the Exile did, despite his severance from the force."

With this, a loud, localized rumble occurred and a whisper began emanating from seemingly everywhere, an echo of a time long passed. The pouch containing the holocron and the Warrior's lightsaber each began to emanate dark energy as the whisper spoke.

"You who have lived your lives seeing through the force, see the galaxy as he has." with this, the two items outpoured a massive amount of purple energy into the masters, who contorted and screamed in pain, bones cracking from their violent convulsions and their eyes smoking with a purple fog before falling dead, completely drained of the force.

The two sith stood dumbstruck for a moment; each giving quizzical looks at their respective relics before relaxing a little.

"Incredible." The Twi'Lek lord stated, removing the holocron from its pouch and examining it. "A memory of the creator's past, triggered with a similar situation with the same deadly effect! But, the holocron, it seems, dimmer than in the vault. Why?"

The Warrior gestured towards the device with his saber hilt, causing it to glow once more as the hilt neared the relic.

"The two are linked somehow, maybe the same creator? We must take these to Dromund Kaas and study them. We could gain power unimaginable, enough to take on the council itself!" The sith frowned down at his saber, hefting it in consideration.

"There is no reason to show these to anyone, much less the council. I don't intend to hand over my prize, which is what we'd be doing if we assaulted the council. No, I should very much like to stay alive." Throwing one last disdainful look at Ivix, the pureblood walked off towards the main temple hall, and the remnants of the sith assault force.

* * *

Lord Drakal, his mind wandering as he walked back to the assault force, was bewildered. He couldn't fathom the reason for such a display, and he certainly didn't want to ask the pathetic scholar Twi'lek about it, so he decided to take a breather. He passed troopers and sith, searching bodies and recovering wounded. They hovered around a large concentration of dead jedi, their last resting place telling a story of it's own. The corpses were arrayed in such a way that it smacked of a last stand, and the sith assault appeared to have been blunted for a time. the sith bodies around the circle of dead jedi was almost knee high, but the empty temple now echoed with the pain and suffering of the dead, and he reveled in it.

Striding past the destroyed shuttle they had entered on, the flames slowly dying around the junk heap. His eyes scanned the area beyond the now shattered great doors, and his good mood returned in full. The sight of sith fighters and capital ships firing on the smoke choked city was enough to bring him to a stand still. His eyes alight, and a smile from ear to ear, Drakal slowly moved to the stairs that lead to the temple, and sat down to enjoy it more fully.

Here and there capital ships fired down on fleeing residents, and fighters struck down transports filled with republic supporting fools, all dying in flames as was their lot for resisting the empire.

His smile was fading however, when he felt a small tugging sensation in his gut. His mind also began to develop a migraine; in very short order the pain grew, growing steadily stronger until he was almost blinded by the pain. He rose to his feet, gripping his head as he stumbled back into the temple. He didn't know why he was running this way, but almost as quickly as the pain began, it began to fade.

He blinked to clear the pain from his eyes, but when he could see, he was instantly upset. He stood next to the Twi'lek from before, his back to him as he rummaged through a jedi's robes.

"What did you do to me Twi'lek!? What trick did you use, hmm? If you're trying to get me to stay with you you're sorely mistaken."

"what in Ryloth's name are you babbling about now, barbarian? Ah! Baran'Do scrolls! This Jed I had excellent taste, a tad bloodstained, but salvageable." Drakal growled low in his throat, anger rising as he stepped closer.  
"You know full well what I'm talking about! The headache? The pulling sensation? Are you going to stand here and tell me I was drawn here by something else?"  
"are you sure it wasn't just my winning personality? Or maybe you just don't know your limits. A sith feeling force overuse symptoms," he tutted, "how embarrassing"  
"Were I not under orders from Malgus himself..." Drakal held himself in check against this idiot, but it was a grueling endeavor, and one he was not entirely sure he could win.

"Look Twi'lek, for some reason, I was drawn back to you. Believe what you will, but I'm sure you know I'm not here because I _wish _to be. And if you didn't do it, then something or someone else, did." Drakal made sure to keep his hand away from his saber hilt, but his hand itched to be done with the man as he raised a brow in curiosity.

"Hmm, well the only thing that could explain it would be that crystal you appropriated and the Holocron. It's all that's changed, and there must be a way to..." he peered around and lowered his voice, "There must be a way to prevent it from sending signals to the Holocron, shielding the Holocron from outside detection seemed to protect me from the effects, how interesting. But we can't do that with your crystal without enormously diminishing your combat capabilities. We've discovered a peculiar set of relics here my friend, but we'll have to stay closer together if you don't want to turn into a puddle of angry red nutri-paste."

The Twi'lek smiled at his obvious anxiety, and Drakal wanted to lash out at something badly, violently. He moved to rub the bridge of his nose, but his mask stopped him. Grabbing the mask and hurling it across the great hall, Drakal cursed loudly, and caught his mask just before it smashed into a pile of rubble. He gently guided the mask back to his waiting hand with the force, and stared down at it for a time while his anger subsided.

"What are we supposed to do then? If we can't leave each others side, and since I'm assuming you won't give up your relic…?"

"If I give up the holocron, who'll unlock its secrets? You obviously won't."

"I care nothing for its secrets. i would simply smash it if it were up to me."

"And that is why I told you not to touch any. These artifacts have ancient security systems that would flay you alive before you could even thumb your sabre's activation switch. If this one reacts so violently just to distance, imagine if it were to be damaged? For all you know it could summon the ghost of Naga Sadow himself to kill you. We can get to my research lab on Dromund Kaas, figure out how to separate our prizes, and then we never have to see each other ever again. My ship awaits me on Malgus' flagship, while Darth Baras negotiates the Republic's surrender, we can at least begin attempting to separate them in the mobile lab."

Once more pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Drakal sighed and extended a gauntleted hand.

"I suppose if we are stuck together... Lord Drakal the blood-thirsty."

"Indeed. Lord Nozz'Ivix the Stalwart." he extended his own hand, clasping his hand with the sith's.

"Well come on then, i want this over as soon as possible." Drakal turned on his heel and began searching for a quiet spot to sit without a damnable blue alien blathering constantly.


	3. Rude Awakening

Lord Drakal let his gaze wander as he walked toward the spaceport, the Twi'lek beside him. The man had at least stopped talking for a time, which he was thankful for. But the walk to the outbound ship was short, and made him wince inwardly when he thought about having to sit next to the man for days. As they walked through the ruined spaceport, it became apparent that the fleet had struck here first, the devastation was too overwhelming for it to be otherwise. The walls were never any higher than ten feet on any of the burnt out husks once used for space landings and coordination; and the charred remains of what had once been people mixed easily with the ash from the city.  
_Almost as if they had never been._

His thoughts were interrupted by their arrival to the only remaining and functional drydock in the area, in the port was one of the invasions flag ships, the 'Lights End'. It's huge frame towering above the land like an demonic god, eclipsing the sun while it transported goods and soldiers to the ground. The large ramp that led into the belly of the ship was crammed with soldiers marching out in formation, a sea of grey and black armor flowing forth. The sight made him swell with pride in the empire, a sure sign of their inevitable victory.

The ship itself was the formidable design of the old sith empire, the triangular craft held Lord Nozz'Ivix's ship in its launch bays, and so that was their destination. Drakal shook his head a little at this idea, but he saw no other way to go.  
_If getting this alien to his lab on Dromund Kaas gets me away from him, then let's get it done. _He shot a withering glance at the man, but he was evidently distracted with the ship in front of him.  
"Well, where is it Twi'lek?"

"Launch Bay 2, it's a Dynamic 5-Class Freighter modified for my use, we should be there shortly"  
"Waitin' on you. Lead on."

The two sith headed for the large hangar bay, Lord Ivix in the lead as they walked past legions of infantry and tanks. A few walkers were being herded out as well, but their progress was slow, the lumbering machines not well suited for Coruscant's upper city walkways. When they finally made it up the ramp and into the interior of the ship, it quickly became a maze to Drakal, its cold grey steel and winding corridors leaving him hoping his new ally actually knew where he was going. The Twi'lek finally turned to a large airlock door, and after entering an access code into the security panel, it slid open with a hiss.

The ship, a product of the long running Dynamic Series, was a one-leveled, circular affair with three prongs at the forefront. As the design had changed over the centuries of production, the Dynamic 5 had become angular, instead of boxy, previously flat sides had become more rounded, offering greater ablative protection. The prongs were pointed like spears, the cockpit more so, to offer greater degrees of vision.

_The man seems to know how to upgrade a ship as well, those oversized exhaust and engine ports speak of either a large hyperdrive or severe incompetence. And those upgrades to the weapons don't look simple either, likely either from something black market or experimental..._  
prototype proton torpedoes were within the missile bays and overcharged turbo lasers adorned the sides.

"Where did you get the money for those upgrades? That looks like experimental-"

"Having friends, well, people that owe you favours, inside Imperial R&D tends to give you access to the bigger guns. And the engines are a little tweak-"

"The engines are Correllian design, big, maybe Endo-steel type five off the assembly line? amazing." The Twi'lek raised an eyebrow and peered back curiously.

"Ah, so the Barbarian knows about more than just how to julienne a Jedi? Yes, Correllian Endo-Steel Engines, discontinued now, my fault. My last apprentice lifted them when she destroyed the factory. She mostly works alone now, pity. Installation wasn't too hard, either."

"You don't keep apprentices hmm? I believe the test of an apprentice is supposed to be their master. But I can see that test was failed. Sith who aren't strong enough shouldn't be allowed to live." The Twi'lek's lekku twitched in annoyance.

"She is still my apprentice, you fool. As Sith, we need to have large grips. She acts as my eyes and ears where I cannot go, keeping an Apprentice leashed is a good way to wind up succeeded. The best weapon is not always a lightsaber." Drakal closed his eyes, keeping the himself as calm as he could before replying.

"You fail to see the point of the trial _**Lord**_Ivix, but I can see that my time is wasted. Let us get this journey over with." He drenched the Twi'leks title with heavy sarcasm, but did not look to hear his reply. Instead marching toward the ramp of the ship without another word.

* * *

The lab on the '_Nexu's Smile' _was crowded, walls crammed with shelf after shelf of ancient writings too precious to be left on Dromund Kaas, each encased in a phrik casing, a light metal known to be resistant to almost anything, even turbo lasers. The ancillary room used for housing holocrons was filled with small pyramidal shapes, with the occasional Jedi Square dotting among the number. From these, Lord Ivix gathered the ones most likely to contain the answer, including Darth Revan's, Darth Malak's, and finally, the Holocron of Jedi Master Vandar Tokare, Grand Master of the Jedi Council on Dantooine during Kreia's stint as a Jedi Master.

As he scanned through the entries, as he had done thousands of times before, he noticed dates match up, after Revan's win at Malachor V, all records of the old woman disappeared. Gone, without a trace. Whatever turned the Master into a Sith appeared lost to time. Frustrated, he retrieved a Holocron of Naga Sadow, the one that taught him how to hide in the force, and called the sith into the lab. Though the pureblood angered him, he was unwilling to lose his temper with delicate work to be done.

"Drakal, if you would enter the lab, I think I can work on loosening the bond between the crystal and Holocron."

"Whaut? You caul thif steak?" The voice from the other room was muffled of course, as it appeared the man had discovered the fridge. Ivix sighed and called out again.

"Get in here, and bring your lightsaber."

The pureblood swaggered inside the lab, remains of what was once likely an expensive dish, or three, still clinging to his lips. Drakal looked at his Lightsaber for a second before placing it on the table. Ivix tampered with Naga Sadow's Holocron while Drakal's saber disassembled itself on the desk, the glowing crystal finally in the open.

"Now, Drakal. I take it you know the Sith code on lightsaber focus? Regarding using the crystal as an extension of the body?"

"Sure, what about it?"

"The crystal in a saber is about more than just pretty colors. During sparring, you focus your energy through it, making it an extension of yourself in the force. The Holocron I can hide, as it's just a computer, but shrinking your crystal's force aura would be to your detriment in combat. However, while traditional shielding stops signals coming in, according to Naga Sadow, the opposite is possible."

"Look, can you skip to the point?"

"Fine, no appreciation for your own history... Think of it like this. A box made of one way mirrors is erected around your crystal. If I fire a laser into the box, the laser bounces around indefinitely. I can do that with the signal from the holocron to the crystal, so when you leave the range, the crystal will still read a signal, I can teach it to you, and it's simple."

"Alright, just make it fast. I saw some interesting drinks in the lounge."

"You leave my Ryloth wine alone! Anyway, you start by encasing the crystal in a cage of energy, ensure you can send things in, but nothing can escape." The sith began to channel the force into the crystal, erecting the barrier as the Twi'Lek instructed.

"There, how do we test it?"

The Twi'Lek pointed his index finger at the crystal, causing a small spark to fly towards it. On impact with the crystal, it began to glow as the energy bounced around inside it. Ivix quickly snuffed out his spark, allowing the crystal to fall silent again.

"I'd say that works. So long as the saber remains near you, the field will be active, with little to no force draw from you. After initial creation, the signal itself should be able to power the cage, minimizing your own power draw." Drakal pursed his lips in thought and hefted the crystal in one hand, looking slightly impressed.

"It seems you have your uses sorcerer. Now remind me again how this helps? It lets me leave?"

"For the foreseeable future, yes. Though if that cage breaks with the amplified signal... I don't even know what'll happen then."

"So why did we need to go to Dromund Kaas? This is all I wanted."

"Are you as stupid as you are angry? This is a temporary fix! Since you won't let go of your shiny red crystal, we need a full lab to discover what this signal is and disable the link, we may even have to discover this relic's origin to do so. My lab is the best place to start."

Drakal growled low in his throat, frustration readily apparent as he snatched his lightsaber from the table and stormed into the next room, only to storm back a moment later, his face reminiscent of a thunderhead.

"So what you're telling me is why have to find the original owner? Who may well be hundreds of years dead? Or even better yet, that I have to trust your judgement on it? Give me one good reason not to simply throw that holocron out the airlock after smashing it to bits! You have no idea what it does or doesn't have defending it, you said as much yourself! Why am I being forced to follow a lunatic around the damn galaxy?"

"Because if you don't I _will_ kill you. I need that crystal, not it's current owner." Drakal's face got even darker at the declaration, and his lip curled into a sneer.

"You want to try it? Please, I've been wanting to do this since I first saw you." He slowly placed his crystal back inside the hilt, and closed it up; making it obvious he was no longer defenseless. He ignited it, the red blade lighting up the room. Ivix also drew his saber, the curved hilt snapping into his palm, green blade igniting with a snap-hiss.

"So be it, barbarian." The Twi'Lek dropped into a guard stance as the Sith leaped forward, parrying and blocking the first flurry of moves. The warrior started with Ataru, the aggressive stance, and Ivix moved to compensate, using diagonal and vertical blows to negate it's more centralized stance.

The two were well matched, but Ivix lost ground over time. Leaping backwards, he fired twin streams of lightning at the sith, who brought his saber up in time to catch them. The stalemate was painfully obvious, but neither one was willing to give in. Drakal used his saber like a bat, sending the bolts back into the shelf behind Ivix, impacting a Phrik case.

"You simpleton! Those are the complete writings of-!" The sith Interrupted with a roar, and once more barreled into the attack, leading the Twi'Lek to catch the assault on his saber. They stood in a saber-lock, neither budging an inch, face to face and growling at each other.

"The complete... works... of Ludo Kressh! You could have destroyed them without that case. I... Will... CRUSH... YOU!"

Once more the Sith's response was a roar, but this time they were face to face. Spittle flew from his lips and fangs, and his gleaming yellow eyes looked crazed, as if he didn't even know where he was at the moment. Pure murder was written on his features as he pushed farther and farther.

The Twi'Lek pushed back, his normally calm demeanor twisted by anger. The match was even, but they continued to push, as if they hoped to snap the blades of plasma in half. As the rage in the room grew, whispering could be heard from the desk. Revan and Vandar's holocrons were whispering, the rage recalling memories long forgotten by time.

Throughout the still open ancillary storage, the other holocrons stirred from dormancy, the Jedi whispers of peace drowned by the anger of long dead sith. The noise grew until it was deafening, when Kreia's holocron finally roused.

"ENOUGH!" an elderly woman's voice rang out, its strength surprising enough to break Ivix' concentration before the holocron released a powerful wave of force energy, silencing the chattering holocrons and throwing both sith to the floor. Both men's sabers deactivated, staying off no matter how hard they pressed the buttons.

"My students will not kill each other. I cannot teach the dead. Revan, Surik, you are dismissed." Ivix stood shakily, looking down at the Barbarian, his Lekku still quivering in anger. The sith was still slouched against the far wall, but the blood-haze was fading slowly from his eyes as he looked around, panting heavily.

"It seems we've managed to get it to recall teaching Revan and the Jedi Exile. Anything between the linked artifact's owners could be a trigger, some may not be as non-lethal." The Twi'Lek shook his head.

"I propose a truce until we figure this out, and go our separate ways. You get your crystal, I get the Holocron, deal?" The sith was still breathing hard, and staring perplexedly at the holocron, but he nodded slowly.

"Good." Ivix pressed his saber button absent-mindedly as the device still refused to reactivate.

"I wasn't in the mood for a fistfight anyway, so uncivilized." The room was trashed, the table was sliced in multiple places from parried blows, and the shelves were haphazardly leaning this way and that from the pressure of the force wave. The damage could be easily fixed, and no artifacts had been destroyed, but still Ivix shook his head once more and proceeded to his rooms.

_This sort of thing never happened with Kaai, but damn that sith can duel. And that rage? Exemplary._

* * *

Drakal sat dumbfounded, his eyes still slightly unfocused from the anger of the fight, but his blurred vision let him see the holocron sitting atop the table as if nothing had happened. He slowly turned his head to watch the Twi'lek leave, and then stood, using the wall for support. Moving carefully, he walked his way past the laboratory room and back into the lounge. As he sat in the very cushioned chair with a small sigh, he let his mind run rampant.

_I should have had him. I got past the long-range threat, and got in close, but he still stopped me. Damnit I must be slipping. Or maybe he is actually a little competent? _A chilling thought, but he couldn't deny the man had a least some modicum of skill. Leaning forward, he grabbed the nearest bottled liquor and removed the cork, throwing it's liquid contents burning down his throat.

"And if nothing else, he has good taste in alcohol."

* * *

Co-Author's note: Readers, reviews are nice, give them to me and tell me how I have messed up or not messed up, my self-flagellation whip is getting lonely. (have I mentioned that third person work is a rarity for me?)  
- 3 Spartaninspace (Nozz.)

Authors note: Since we both wrote parts for the others character, can you tell which of us is writing what? How so? Do tell...reviews! (Bahoogasmif)


	4. Of Hangovers and Rebellions

Of Hangovers and Rebellions

The holocron had fallen silent since its outburst, and Ivix took that chance to delve into it while it was inert. Much of it was junk data, irrelevant to their current situation, old information any other holocron would have contained. Beast control, breath filtering, lightsabre techniques, all assorted tidbits from various sources, like a compendium for starting force-users. The newly repaired desk seemed so inviting after almost a full night of staring into the holocron, and he felt his eyes grow heavy, and barely felt his head touch it.

He stood in an endless white room, nothing for miles except the figure standing before him. He approached the figure to notice that it was the woman from the visions, her brown cloak concealing her face as it had then. She lifted her head, revealing atrophied eyes and a grin.

"So, you have finally arrived, Twi'lek." the voice was the same old and raspy, yet powerful, one that had knocked him to the floor earlier. "You seek my secrets, as many have, and I have decided that you are ready. And though this holocron is insufficient for my needs, it will have to do. There are ways of proving oneself in the force... ways that allow one to stand in its very center, as though you stood upon the eye of the storm. These places are called force wounds, places where there was so much pain, so much death, that it tore the force itself asunder." The woman stopped for a moment, her bleach white eyes staring through him as if judging.

"How can I find these places?" The Twi'Lek asked, peering around the room, "And what is this place?"

The woman smirked. "It has been a long time since I've had students this inquisitive, but patience! All will be revealed in time." And then she returned to her composed oration. "The first two wounds are located close together, one created by me, and another by an ancient war. One is an untamed wilderness, and the other a political one. A suitable match for you and your companion."

With this, the Twi'Lek was bolted awake, opening his eyes in time to see the holocron cease glowing.

"Another vision? And not a memory. At least we have a lead now, I should probably tell the Barb-, _Drakal _about this." He pocketed the holocron and headed towards the lounge in the centre of the ship, where he found the Sith passed out and face down on the table, surrounded by bottles of alcohol.

"Damnit, really? I do all the work, and you drink all my alcohol?" he sighed and used the force to amplify his voice. "Wake Up!" he yelled, shaking most of the loose objects around the warrior.  
Drakal continued snoring, unaffected by the blast of sound. The Twi'Lek sighed again and turned to the holotable, displaying the Galaxy Map.

"Let's see, Jungle Planet and planet in political unrest, most likely the same area?" he scrolled through planet after planet matching the description, many not being close enough together. Kashyyk, Alderaan, Corellia, Endor, they all came close in some area, but not quite. Be it distance or political climate, something would always throw it off, until he reached the last two. Onderon and Dxun. The two planets orbited one another, even sharing the same atmosphere in some cases. Dxun was the untamed wilderness the woman had spoken of, a massive battlefield in the Mandalorian wars, while Onderon was in an almost constant state of political unrest due to the Republic's lack of assistance and the ruler's incompetence.

He set the ship's course, and turned to see the sith still slumped over the table, snoring loudly. He tutted and walked into the bridge, setting their course with a few tapped buttons, they were on their way to Onderon.

* * *

Lord Drakal awakened, but didn't open his eyes. They felt welded shut, and he couldn't find the strength to lift his head. His mouth tasted like it was stuffed with cotton, and his brain beat upon his skull like a large drum. Sitting slumped over for so long had made his back hurt as well, and he had to wait a minute to conjure up the willpower to keep himself from vomiting.

His first sight were the three empty bottles around him, all knocked over. His next step was to straighten his back, which he did to a chorus of cracks that made him groan despite himself. His head felt like it was about to explode like an overripe melon, but he held it as he moved slowly to his feet. Clamping his eyes shut while the blood rushed to his head, he teetered dangerously. Drakal grabbed the wall nearby and looked around.

The ship seemed quiet for one that was supposed to still be traveling, and as he listened he began to grow suspicious. There was no hum from the hyperdrive, meaning either they were stopped, or they were floating through space in a dead drift.  
Liking neither of those options, Drakal set about searching for his alien companion, calling feebly though his not quite functioning mouth. The first croak surprised even him with its frailty, but he sounded more like himself each time he called out. After searching each room on the ship, he began to feel concerned.  
_What, did the idiot space himself or something?_

He decided to take a look at the navigation chart on the bridge, and found himself re-reading it again and again out of confusion. After an extensive amount of effort, he managed to decipher that they were on a planet called Onderon, and had been for two hours. Sighing heavily, he grabbed his mask from the table and placed it into a pouch on his robes, before lowering the exit ramp and easing himself down it. His head still pounded furiously as he made his way down the ramp, and the bright sunlight caused him to hiss out loud in pain.

The first thing he noticed when his mind recovered from the pain was the small human male standing in front of him. The man stood there timidly, likely thinking about how bad an idea it was to be there.  
"Hello, sir, and welcome to Onderon! Would you-"

"Quiet down! Bloody damnable..." Drakal's words turned into unintelligible grumbles and the human recoiled a little.

"Yes, sir. We were told by a Twi'lek that you should know he is, um, 'gauging public outcry'-his exact words sir."

The sith straightened, exuding his best commanding presence, -which was daunting considering his horrid state- and fed on the man's fear. Delicious. He towered over the human and looked down with bloodshot eyes.

"Where is he?"

"I-I don't know sir!"

"Then get out of my way, fool." Shoving past the man and walking out of the space dock, he made his way into the winding metropolis streets.

The city was crowded, and the people all gave him a wide berth, but he had no time to enjoy their fear. The buildings were a more archaic design, one that spoke of old age and endurance. And the people themselves looked pitiful; many were beggars, clothed only in rags, while others, likely merchants, strode about in fine silks and ornate clothes. He didn't begrudge the merchants though.

_If you rise above the rank and file, you belong there. Only the smart and quick get to positions of power, while the rest cry and complain because life isn't fair._  
He was walking through the middle of another winding street, a large sign overhead declaring it the "Merchant District" when a man of about middle build shouldered into him.

"Hey! Watch your step alien." The human barked.

Drakal's eyes bulged from the sheer audacity of the man, and he was in no mood to play nice. Not today.

"Address me properly, worm. I am a Sith Lord." Once more squaring his shoulders, the sith narrowed his eyes at the human male who had the gall not only to keep talking, but to insult a powerful Sith.

"Excuse me? I don't care if you're the queen's great-grandmother! You need to watch where you-" The man's words were cut off by the sith raising his hand, and the slow choking that ensued caused the man to turn purple within seconds. He squirmed and writhed in the air as he was lifted off his feet, but before Drakal could kill the idiot, something smashed into his head from behind, causing his already pounding head to explode in a fresh wave of pain. Howling in rage now, Drakal dropped the man in front of him and drew his lightsaber, the snap-hiss making the growing crowd collectively gasp as he turned to face this new attacker.

Judging from the cheap battle armor, it was a district guard. He held his baton out in front of him -a useless stick- while his eyes stared with no small amount of trepidation at Drakal's red blade.

"You dare...?" Drakal advanced a step in the guard's direction, and the movement snapped the man from his trance.

"Guards! Guards! I need backu-!" A quick swing flicked the mans head from his shoulders, causing the crowd to cry out in panic before they ran, and the screams did nothing for his pounding headache. But more men were pouring out of the alleyways and side streets, some arguing loudly and some already engaged in pushing matches. Drakal couldn't keep the sheer confusion from his face as he watched the men completely ignore him and argue with each other in steadily growing circles. The guards had begun gathering at the district entrances, but they appeared far more concerned with the other citizens than they were with him. As the grumbles began to build he could make out a few.

"The guards do nothing but pick on the weak!"

"Why doesn't the queen do something? The city is starving!"

"She sits in her luxury while we die in the streets! We deserve better!"  
The malcontents appeared to be gaining momentum while the few loyal to their queen were quickly drowned out. Before long, they were yelling in rage at the assembled guards, some throwing rocks and sharp objects.

Drakal felt way beyond bewildered, but he knew which side would lessen his chances of getting hit again. Smiling, he placed his mask on his face once more, its ornate and spiraling red carvings making him out to be some kind of monster. He held his lightsaber above his head and looked back at the mob over his shoulder. The mewling weaklings looked ready to die for their cause, but he had no intention of saving them from throwing themselves at a superior force.  
"Charge!"

* * *

The cantina was abuzz with the sound of the common people of Onderon, Humans milled around the crowded bar, discussions lost in the ever-noisy watering hole. His own drink sat before him as he sampled the air for emotions. Anger was the prevailing theme; anger at the royal family, anger at neighbours, and... feeding it was fear. Fear for the future. Excellent.

Ivix approached a wealthy looking man, one clad in expensive silks and jewellery. Ivix's well-tailored travelling cloak appeared almost like rags by comparison. He caught the noble's attention and played the part of a simple trader, starting in the Twi'lek trade language. "Kipu ma rachicoom? Echui-"

The noble whirled to face him, anger and fear in his eyes, and burst out yelling, "Speak basic you purple eyed freak! I don't have time for this, not when this planet is circling the gutter!"

"Many pardons, sir. This one merely wished to know why the ports won't let him offload his goods? He believed a human of your stature would know why?" It was irritating to play such a pathetic role, but necessary. And worthwhile; it didn't take long for the man to start ranting about the current political climate while downing a bottle of Raava.

"Ever since our beloved queen's Republic left us to the wolves, we've all been starving while she and her guards live in the lap of luxury, beating down any threats-quite literally- be they legitimate or contrived!"

Plans began to form in Ivix's mind as the human relayed the planet's woes; subterfuge, sabotage... even a coup d'etat plan started to form. This was a sith's playground. He'd already spoken with a few others in the bar, and the stories were all the same. The queen was in a state of disfavor with her people, the people were really hungry, and both noble and peasant alike were exploited by the Republic's extensive tax laws. And all the while he could feel the force wound near the palace like a festering cut that pulsed in time to the anger of the city.

He needed a way to get to the palace proper, but as it was, the Queen had ensured no one could. She had come close to declaring martial law several times already, and seeing a sith attempt to get in would raise many eyebrows. Lord Ivix left the stuck-up nobleman after giving him a respectful bow of his head before turning for the bar exit.

Once out the door, his lekku began to twitch slightly, a warning of impending danger, and he began to hear shouts and the roaring of a crowd from outside. He had trouble thinking of a possible cause until he remembered the hung-over, angry sith he had left slumped in the spaceship's lounge.

"Oh, dammit!" He growled as he sprinted back out the front door.

The once peaceful-enough streets had become engulfed in a riot, and, sure enough, at the front of the zoo stood the sith. With his lightsaber held high, egging the commoners on, he had started a rebellion in less than ten standard minutes. The Twi'lek waded through the crowd, lightsaber in hand, warding off any rioters that got too brave. "Drakal. What the hell have you done? We came here for the wound, and you've just made that nigh impossible!" He lowered his voice slightly, "Not to mention that it's sitting right beneath the Queen's palace!"

Drakal put a hand to his forehead, and even through the mask it was obvious he wasn't feeling well.

"Do you have to shout? These peasants shouting are bad enough."

"And- oh that's just great, you're hung-over, too. Did you never learn toxin filtering?"

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, you want a way into the palace? There it is." He pointed a hand towards the mob that was battering itself on the guards, who were doing their best just to hold, much less push back.

"Are you stupid? This is Onderon; no unorganized rebellion will stand here. The people value individualism far too much for that to happen. What they need is leadership, and from one with a legitimate claim to the throne."

Drakal shrugged, and turned a little to look back at the brawl

"They seemed ready enough to follow me."

"No, it wasn't you, they would never follow a non-human. What did you do to set this off?"

"Some human decided to disrespect me, so I killed him. Then this happened. I have no idea what's wrong with this city, so why don't _**you**_ tell _**me **_what's going on?"

"HOW, did you kill him? Did you choke him? Throw him? Look at him funny?"

"Why should that matter? All you need to know is his head is no longer attached to his body."

"It matters because the royal family of this planet is descended from the line of Freedon Nadd. The only force-sensitive member of late has been missing for years, and there's a good chance he's been stirring this rebellion. If you struck out with the force, there's a good chance you've prematurely triggered a civil war."

"All the better if it distracts these fools and lets us get into the palace."

"Onderon's castle is a millennia old construct made by the most paranoid sith to ever live. We need more than roused rabble to invade it, unless you want to dig through two-hundred feet of permacrete."

"We have two options, Twi'lek. We can either use this mob to our advantage, and storm the palace, or just leave. Because unless the current power is removed, or at the very least occupied, then we are just wasting our time."

"Unless we find the leader. If we find Nadd's descendant, and place him on the throne, we gain access, and a friendly planet for the empire. This Galaxy runs on-"

"Enough! Fine, you find your leader, I'll keep this rabble from falling apart in the first push." Without waiting for Ivix's approval he charged into the fray, sparking the rioters to even greater fury as they saw their prey weaken.

Ivix turned away and leaped to the top of a nearby building, reaching out in the force for another. Terrified minds clouded the search a little, until he finally found a bearing. _The Beast Rider district... how clever of him to hide among the bane of his ancestors. _The zone reserved for the beastmen was filled with animals, from Banthas to Reeks, and smelled just as terrible. Scavengers lined the streets as he sprinted across the bare rooftops, until he reached an alley. Dropping down into it, he saw one occupant, a young human clad in rags, slumped in the corner.

"I wondered when my fellow Sith would arrive." The human said into his knees, his force aura flaring wildly. "I've been waiting a long time to overthrow my bitch sister, and you start the party without me." He turned his head to stare up at Ivix. "Still, I get the sense this isn't your style. Your partner, however. His rage is constant, palpable."

"The last force-user of Freedon Nadd's line, I presume? Were your family force sensitive, you'd have been sensed miles away. The beastmen helped, but you need training. You are more... unstable than I had hoped."

"I have lived for my people!" The man rose, his ragged cloak falling, revealing an antiquated set of Sith battle armor beneath the rags, a Sith Warblade at his side. "Do not insult me!"

"What I have seen of you testifies that you are not worthy of your throne. Prove to me that you are, and join your people's fight!"

The king to be stood taller, "No aliens will outdo me! My people _**will **_be free!" With this, he augmented his speed and sprinted towards the palace, a crude version of the technique, with horrible force draw, but it was passable. Lord Ivix chuckled and followed close behind.

* * *

Drakal hadn't enjoyed himself much since the jedi temple assault on Coruscant. But he had to admit; even with a hangover this was fun. The palace guards were pathetic in every sense of the word, making his advance a walk through a bloodied park. His mob had died off a while back, but alone he advanced easily, blocking blaster shots and hurling men off the sky ramp to their dooms, splattering on the streets below.

He couldn't keep the smile from his face as more palace guards rushed to stop him. Their barracks had be nearby for this many to be facing him at once. There was maybe twenty or so guards storming down the ramp towards him, blaster rifles at the ready as he slowly walked towards them.

In a flash of speed, he whipped one arm from under his cloak and flung a dozen off their feet and to the left, over the side of the sky ramp, while his right hand grabbed his saber and blocked the incoming hail of bolts. Leaping into the air, he summoned his strength to his fist, and came down hard, making the ground crater and sending the other half flying in all directions. Some stood, but they were quickly dispatched, either by his saber or their own reflected rifle shots.

He continued his leisurely stroll up the ramp, and the palace loomed ever closer as he drew nearer the end. It was interesting though, that no other rioters had come out to assist him.

_But then, cowards will be cowards._ He smirked at his own thoughts and continued his upward march.

As he drew near the palace gates, he heard a commotion rising up from behind him. He turned impatiently to see a group of yet more palace guards, this one easily a hundred strong. His eyes bulged briefly at the numbers, but he was already looking for a way to even the odds. He drew his lightsaber once more and flicked it on, the snap-hiss making the entire group in front of him whip their weapons up to their shoulders. He knew he couldn't block that many blasters, not at once.

He was searching for an escape when a voice rang out from the ramp.

"Citizens of Onderon, your king has returned! The true blood of Freedon Nadd will once more rule our fair planet!" The entire group looked around in confusion at first, unsure as to where the booming voice had come from, when from behind them came yet another army, this one larger than the guards own force. But these were led by a man in sith warrior robes, and if he squinted...

_Yep, that's him all right._ The Twi'lek Sith Lord stood a little bit behind the would-be king, and the rabble behind him looked frenzied. A few looked to be competent, wearing at least light armor and blasters, but most were peasants wielding, at best, vibroblades.

They surged forward, a sea of wicked improvised weapons that soon washed over the guards. They quickly flanked and overcame the terrified force like a wave washing over sand. It wasn't a fight, not really. The guards didn't put up much of any resistance before they were routed, scattering to the side lanes off the sky ramp and fleeing away in panic from the palace gates. Smirking once more, Drakal slashed the gates open with his saber, then stood aside as the newly enraged mob broke into the palace grounds.

* * *

While jagged around the edges, the Prince, who had renamed himself Lord Taertus Nadd, made a good leader. His troops decimated the better-trained palace guards within, carving a clear pathway through the palace. The stragglers fell to the three sith's blades, the prince keeping pace the best he could. The throne room was in sight, and between the three them they quickly tore down the force shield protecting it. The remaining guards within the throne room were not so easily destroyed, as they were the queens best, and had no fear of sith, but Ivix and Drakal managed it.

Finally, before them sat Queen Christina Kira, the decadent ruler of Onderon. "Christina, it finally comes to this." The prince grinned cruelly, his anger bubbling to the surface. "I will kill you here, and put our planet right."

Ivix placed a hand on the Prince's shoulder. "Hold, she still has sympathizers on-planet. Killing her where she stands will only destabilize Onderon further. Drakal, mop up the remaining guards, I will handle this."

Scoffing at Ivix giving orders, the sith rolled his eyes and moved in another direction from the throne, and out into the hall.

"Then what do you propose we do? We surely cannot let her live!" the prince growled, staring daggers at his sister.

"I never said let her live. You must manipulate whoever you can to turn on her, put her on trial, and expose everything she's ever done. Politick your way into being the greatest being in this world, and then, execute her. Publicly."

"Is this the Sith way? Manipulation and sabotage? I think I very much enjoy this prospect." The prince smiled.

"You will learn," Ivix said coolly, "But first, as repayment for your throne, there is a force phenomenon hidden within the bowels of the palace. I need access to the undercroft."

"And you shall have it, my friend! Anything for the savior of Onderon!" The new king raised his voice and his hands, inciting the rebel troops to whoop and holler as Ivix walked to the under bridge, the entrance of the palace crypt. He fingered the holocron beneath his cloak, gleeful at the possibility of prospective power, and descended into the depths of the tomb.


	5. Jedi Hospitality

Jedi Hospitality

_Meanwhile, in the blackness of Outer Space, on board a Republic Spacecraft_

A white armored hand pushed up the throttle, provoking the _Skyarch_'s engine to roaring. A robed Jedi watched with an analytical gaze as the pilot's fingers glided over the glowing panel, pressing down with precision, pulling the ship out of hyperspace and into the gravity well of the nearby Onderon.

The air of the hull was heavy with anticipation. A mixed group of armored and robed individuals were crowding around the pilot's chair and poised like lions before their prey.

Estela Shan, Dia'Vei, and Joei Olek were the three Jedi overseeing this mission. Each particularly strong in the force, and each with a particular power which, while alone was exploitable, as a group they were widely regarded as impenetrable. Estela Shan, who was renowned for her usage of the force; in particular her defense, her focus, and her incredible gift of healing. Dia'Vei, a blue twi'lek, whose sensitivity in the force was exemplary, and whose mouth formed words that could mold and form another, male, female, alien or not, according to her will. Then there was Joei Olek, a human male who had bested every student in the art of the blade during his time at the Jedi Academy.

As a group, these three had been dubbed 'Woven Trio', for once their powers were combined, no mission was found unsuccessful. It was for this very reason, because of their combined and flexible arrangement of power, that they had been chosen along with a handful of elite troopers to track down and retrieve a most valuable artifact.

They had been told nothing as to the nature of the artifact, and nothing as to the state of who or what they were chasing, but they had been instilled with the absolute and veritable importance of their mission.  
After all, the council itself had debriefed them.

Estela Shan felt that honor lying heavily on her shoulders. The need to fulfill that responsibility ate at her, and irritability was rising up in her without end.

"You saw them land here, on this planet?" She said, breaking the silence. Her voice was sharp, even to her own ears.

"I've told you before," The pilot, also a sergeant and decorated marksman, replied testily. "I know nothing. I saw nothing. Your blue jedi friend insisted they were on this planet. I don't know why, nor do I much care. I'm just following orders." He turned to look at her, weathered face and unamused expression. "You, jedi, should try to remember who is in charge and ask the_ one giving orders_rather than the one doing what they're told and paid to do."

It was a small ship. And the small group filled it up tight. They were bound to get on each other's nerves.

_And yet I do believe this man needs to learn a few things about manners._ Estela was tempted, but she knew confrontation would only further sour the already soured relations between jedi and soldier on the ship. So she turned on her heel and sought out Dia'Vei, heading towards the sleeping quarters.

* * *

The palace crypt should have been humming with the force presence of the people buried within, yet it was silent in the force, like an echo chamber. Dead. The centre of the wound lay in the far end of the crypt, near the sarcophagi of war heroes. As he approached, the wound seemed to react, pressing against him, almost crushing him, smothering him, yet he pressed on until he reached the stone sarcophagus he sought.

"Here lies Colonel Tobin, a more dedicated man to Onderon the Royalty has never seen." He pushed off the heavy stone lid with a grunt, and was slightly disappointed by what he saw.  
Within was little more than bones adorned with decaying armour marked with the insignia of General Vaklu, the last rebel leader of Onderon. Yet from the corpse Ivix sensed nothing in the force. Rather, he sensed emptiness _of_the force; it was as though the body was death incarnate. Whatever had happened to this man while he was alive had made him a walking wound in the force, like the masked man from the vision.

Ivix removed the Holocron from his belt and placed it on the sarcophagus.

"Okay, old woman. I've brought you to the wound. What next?" As if on cue, the holocron began glowing and a translucent image of the woman emerged, looking around the crypt and at Tobin.

"Ah, Colonel Tobin, I wondered how the wound would manifest on your corpse. Well done, Twi'Lek. Because of these wounds, my holocron's power shall increase exponentially." There was a thoughtful pause before she continued. "I take it that you are the more inquisitive of the group?"

"Yes, my associate only wishes to know how to disable the link between the crystal and the holocron, nothing more."  
"Ah, so that is the reason behind that force cage of yours. A clever adaptation of Naga Sadow's technique, I believe. I will allow it. But time grows short. You know where the next wound is, do you not?"  
"On the Jungle Moon, Dxun, correct?"  
"Well done. I will release the bond when I deem your training complete, but you and the Sith will remain bonded for now. This wound cannot sustain me for much longer, Twi'lek. Meditate, and I will bestow upon you a portion of my wisdom."  
The Twi'lek did as the woman said, and felt ancient thoughts flow into his mind, images of battles fought long ago, between Sith and Jedi, and of the force itself...

* * *

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

_There is no death, there is the Force._

The Jedi Code rang through the air from the Twi'lek woman deep in meditation. It rumbled through the room. And Estela stood poised by the doorway, the mantra flooding over her, flooding her mind with memories of her mother, of the bedtime tales of Bastila and Revan, great heroes of a time long past. And Estela's own ancestors.

One in particular was prominent among them. Estela's mother brushing back the hair of her child in tenderness. The mother leaning down to kiss the girl's forehead. Mother saying, "So, you see, it was not peace that saved Bastila from the dark side. It was not knowledge, nor serenity. It was not harmony. Bastila even said that it was not the force, for there is a power that moves human souls and it is a power greater even than the Force itself. Love is what saved her. So when the force and all its promises fail you, remember love, and it will save you, too."

It was a bright memory. Something sweet and dear that filled the jedi to her core. And though Estela knew it to be structured with a secret known only to a few, the power of it escaped her. Love was not something she had experienced, nor, now that she thought of it, did she much care to. What mattered to her was the Jedi Order, and these two jedi that she had known all her life. That was what mattered most to her, and that was why the light still lived in her.

"Estela!" Dia'Vei cut through her thoughts, in a voice and demeanor both warm and welcoming. Though the twi'lek was at least a foot shorter than Estela, she more than made up for it with her personality, which seemed to fill every room she entered with a bright and comforting glow. Her large round and emerald green eyes were warm with affection and she looked at Estela with a bit of curiosity. "Hello again. Would you care to join me in my meditation?" Estela smiled.

"I would be glad to." Estela bowed and crossed the room, sitting beside her peer.  
As one, the two shifted their breathing to a chorus, and relaxed, giving themselves over to the force.  
_What brings you here, Essa?_Dia called out to Estela in the Force, offering to meld their minds together. It was a skill the three had mastered, and Dia was the designated initiator.

It was a simple tactic. Using the force, Dia created a mind link between herself and a comrade. So long as the comrade responded to Dia's call, they each were free to examine one others' mind. Dia'Vei had, over the course of her twelve years of training, perfected this art of connection even under duress of combat, allowing for near flawless communication.  
_Boredom, I suppose, is the larger culprit_, Estela replied. _Though I had a few questions about the change in course a while back. I thought the council believed that the thieves were headed for Sith space?_  
_Ah, that's right. I have yet to show you. Come, _A sensation like a hand pulling at her own came to Estela. _Rather than explanation, it is better to reveal in this manner._

The twi'lek woman fell into deep meditation. Legs crossed and arms out, her form-fitting robes clung and accentuated her every curve. Estela was glad no soldier was here to see her in such a defenseless state. The twi'lek had to delve deep into the force in order to catch the barest glimpse of the energy emitted by the artifact in question. It put her into a state of mind entirely separate from her body. It unlocked the extent of her foreign and alien beauty, all the while giving her an air of vulnerability.

Estela marvelled at the pure force energy the twi'lek emitted. It was so unlike her own, which, Estela knew and loathed, was tinged with the sting of arrogance and jealousy. Dia'Vei's was unmarred, unscathed, and an absolute embodiment of light. And the cornerstone of her pure energy was the girl's own innocence. Estela smiled and relaxed into her own mind, calling out to the force and all the while admiring her peer at work.

The world around them faded into black as Dia took control, pulling Estela's mind according to her will. At first thousands, then hundreds of tiny pricks of light appeared throughout the darkness, each of them flying past as though at great speed. Estela felt as though her entire being were flying through space, the stars and planets whizzing by. Finally the lights began to slow, and naught but darkness surrounded them.  
_This, is our goal._  
Estela shot her friend a sense of the emotion 'confusion' using the bond.

_There's nothing here._

_Oh? Oh! _Realization surged from the other woman. _I'm sorry. Here. _Dia pulled Estela in deeper, and the human began to see a glimmer of something shining as though from a long way off. _Its small, far smaller than when we initially felt it._ That allowance was pure generosity on Dia's part. The Twi'lek had been the only one to feel it, even then.

_I think someone's masking it, using the force. I would assume it to be, in light of the recent attack on Coruscant, Sith. _As soon as she said this, the glimmer blinked once and then faded from their senses. Dia was a silent presence for a moment. And then, _Well, we should consider my theory all but confirmed now._  
_It's nothing we're not prepared for._ Estela pushed confidence into her thoughts.  
The blackness of the room winked out abruptly, and Estela blinked as once more she was looking at plain grey walls and sitting next to Dia, who gave an explosive sigh.

"I can't help but wish the council had told us what we're dealing with here. They made it sound like an entirely different kind of enemy. Sith? And ones connected with the Coruscant attack? How could they not have known?" The Twi'lek frowned down at her still crossed legs, seeming to see through them as she concentrated.  
"The council must have had a reason for not telling us, Dia. We should trust in their wisdom, as we always have." Estela placed a hand on her friend's knee and gave her a sympathetic smile.  
Dia nodded slowly, and a small smile found its way across her face. "Thank you, Essa." She tilted her head before saying, "And thank you for coming to speak with me. It's been a span since we've talked and you've always been such a calming presence for me."

Estela returned the smile, though in her heart she felt a sting of guilt. She had only come out of restless boredom.  
Dia stretched with a yawn and squeak as she stood, the lithe physique of her species accentuating the movement. "It's going to be at least an hour or so before we land. Shall we grab lunch?"  
Estela nodded, and the two headed off to the mess hall, Dia linking her arm into her friend's own.

* * *

Lord Ivix walked out of the tunnel in time to see the new King addressing his troops. Ivix peered around for his Sith, rubbing his temples. The man was a permanent headache. He found Drakal lounging on the King's throne, one leg hanging over an arm of the chair and his body covered in jewels likely looted from the Palace's store rooms. He had a small smile on his face as he played with a gold circlet around his wrist. And when he saw Ivix approaching, he surprisingly didn't frown.

"Ah! And how fares our world of intrigue and ghosts, Twi'lek? I must say, for today starting out the way it did, it has certainly ended on a fine note." Drakal seemed close to humming he was so happy.

"Well, at least _**my**_ new riches won't be squandered on liquor and cheap women." Ivix muttered back. Turning aside, he approached the King, and bowed in respect. "King Nadd, it is great to see a Sith on Onderon's throne once more." He straightened. "If I may offer a suggestion; contact the Empire and join them. You will be rewarded as you deserve, for gaining power in the sith way. You will find glory in serving the Empire, and I am certain a sith adviser and tutor can be arranged to temper your growing power."

The king was thoughtful at this, stroking his chin. It wasn't long before he smiled, pleased. "They sound much more understanding than the Republic, indeed. I will make plans to follow your advice." Then he nodded respectfully in Ivix's direction. "And I am grateful to you, what you have done here is something that will be remembered for generations. And bear this in mind; next time the Imperials march into battle, Onderon and its king will march with them."

"The Empire thanks you for your support. Would that we could further help you in securing your world, but regretfully, we must depart Onderon for our next prize. It was an honor to fight beside you, King Taertus Nadd."

He gestured at the greedy Sith, and he, grumbling, got up and followed.

"Let's leave this cesspool." Drakal said once he was within earshot. Ivix concurred.

They left through the now blaster-scored archway that led back towards the city, and their ship.

* * *

"That's it. I lost it." Dia'Vei dropped a hand from the side of her head and opened her eyes, defeat written across her features.

"Great... Just great." Joei groaned. He kicked the ground, summoning up a billow of dust.

They had landed on Onderon a scant five minutes prior. The artifact's aura had still been traceable then.

Of course, the jedi had taken precautions before exiting the ship. Their lightsabers were strapped beneath their clothes, and they had taken care to look nondescript; namely, they had changed out of their robes and into commoner's clothing borrowed from a few more generous troopers.

The civilian situation was absolutely horrid. It seemed an uprising had taken place soon before their arrival, and the queen had already been unseated and, presently, on trial and set to be executed. This news they had been fed by the screaming crowds, which cheered and raged it all out at once, the population running through the streets in wild abandon. The pandemonium had made it nearly impossible for Dia to focus, and near impossible for her to track down the artifact's unique signature in the midst of energies rippling and meshing together. And it seemed the chaos had now finally and entirely overpowered the energy signal.

"Leave it to the Sith to start a rebellion not an hour after they land." Joei had commented with no small amount of disgust. Wading through that chaos had been no small feat, and the group wasn't looking forward to going through the ordeal for a second time. And entirely empty-handed to boot.

"Are you certain, Dia? Nothing? Not even a trace?" Estela felt irritation, a familiar fiend, rising up in her again.

The group had been walking through the streets in a vain attempt to spot their target, and had been met so far by nothing but angry mobs and filthy streets.

"It's been getting steadily weaker since we got here." Dia'Vei said apologetically. "It's like an electric signal fizzing out. Except now someone snuffed out the whole thing with rubber and cement. There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."

The three had found shelter in an abandoned lot behind one of the construction buildings. The din from the city filled their ears like static.

"Well, I guess we have to head back then." Joei said it with regret. "Maybe we can catch them before they make it to their ship." A sentiment without hope.

"Should we split up to cover more ground?" Estela asked. Her foot tapped the ground, impatience starting to get the better of her. That, and she didn't want to return to the horridly cramped space of their ship so soon. "I can head towards the spot Dia showed me this morning. This way we have both directions covered."

Dia nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Joei hesitated. But upon Dia's insistent gaze and Estela's irritated stare, he sighed resignedly. "Alright, but just... be careful, alright, Estela? These are sith we're dealing with here."

"Of course." Estela said quickly.

Joei gave her a level look, and Estela fought down more irritation. She forced a smile, waved, and started walking in the opposite direction.

"She could use a _tad _more discipline." She heard him mutter. Estela rolled her eyes.

* * *

The _Horn of Ryloth_ touched down on the metallic surface of the Onderon Spaceport, thrusters firing out as the landing gear made impact with the earth. Within sat a Sith apprentice. She disengaged the small interceptor's engines and fell back against her chair with a huff.

Being the Apprentice of the Sith Lord Ivix was no easy task. She had been in the middle of excavating a tomb on Tatooine -under orders, she may add- when she got a holocall from her master ordering her to come meet him on this planet. Halfway there, he called again, demanding she gather information regarding the political climate of the very same Onderon, despite her much more limited records. And then, just before she landed, he called again, saying to forget about all his previous orders and remain on standby in the docking bay until he contacted her again.  
Yes, being Apprentice to the Sith Lord Ivix was no easy task, but Kaai knew she was more than up to it.

And then the holocron beeped. Groaning, she reached across the cramped area of the single person cockpit and thumbed in its activation. Her master's face flashed into existence above the small projector.  
"Kaai, good." Ivix's face was static-laden, and his voice, though comprehensible, was almost drowned out by the din of a roaring crowd. "Have you landed yet? There's been a slight complication. We've overthrown the Republic-friendly queen, and placed a Sith -a descendant of Freedon Nadd- on the throne. The new king requires your assistance to quell any resistance."

The Togruta stared at the small representation of her master in the palm of her hand before sighing.

"Is my assistance truly needed here, master? The king seems to have this place pretty locked down. And the jungle is so much more interesting."

The miniature hologram crossed it's arms before continuing, "I realize the jungles are more interesting than a bland diplomatic landscape, but we need the king to succeed and bring Onderon's military into the fold. If the Remnants of Queen Kira's supporters can regain control, all will have been for naught. Kaai, I need this from you."

The Togruta put a red hand to her forehead, "Fine, I'll babysit your king. Maybe I'll see a little action while I'm he-" she stopped and peered out the cockpit of her ship, into the Onderon spaceport's courtyard.  
"What is it Kaai?"  
"I may have seen my lucky break. I see some suspicious beings entering a private hangar. Two humans, too disciplined to be common rabble." She sprouted a fanged smile, "I'll get back to you later, master."

The ship's airlock hissed as it sealed closed behind her. Kaai took in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of fresh air. Well, as fresh as air can be after it's been filled with smoke and the smell of rotting bodies. Kaai checked her holocommunicator for a path to the palace, and saw no message yet from Ivix. She sighed, and glanced up at the sky, which was black from the burning city around her. But then her eyes locked onto something.

Just barely visible on the horizon, on what it seemed was a private hangar, seemed to be a small warship. But that was not what caught Kaai's eye. It was the Republic emblem, bright red and glaring against the blackened paintwork.

She took a moment to ponder the anomaly.

A Republic warship on Onderon? Envoys and government ships were common enough visitors to the planet, but a warship? The Republic had been a weak militant presence on Onderon at its height, and now, with the start of the Sith attack, it couldn't manage to be more than entirely absent. There was no way they could have heard about the Coup d'etat so soon. Something was definitely up.  
She glanced at her holocommunicator. No new messages as of yet. She couldn't resist the temptation; the warship was much too interesting for her to let this opportunity pass by.

She began to climb the side of the hangar, the aged brickwork providing numerous handholds as she scaled the weathered building, until she reached the roof and peered through the massive open skylights that adorned the roof, noting the armoured -and drunk- soldiers below. Crouching against the surface, she used her species' impressive hearing to eavesdrop on the soldiers.  
"What did she say to you then?" They were drinking, heavily, and their voices were thick with the liquid.

"She was all 'Are you sure?!' " The other said in falsetto. " 'Check again!' " He leaned into his friend, eyes bleary. "Now this... this is where I start gettin' a bit uptight. I said to her, I says, 'Now look here. Jedi or not, you're a freak. I've cleaned and cleared this bathroom 300 million times. Just because there is a bit o' piss on the toilet here don't mean I'm the one what done it!'" He turned away from his friend, snickering. "Now, that ain't even the funny part of it. At the end of it, it turned it was her all along! She has pee power hydro! And she goes around blaming all the other soldiers for it out of embarrassment for her lady-like refined-ness."  
This sent the rest of the soldiers into an uproar of raucous laughter. A few of them began yelling "Pissing queen!" while clutching their stomachs.

_Is this really the discipline the Republic teaches it's troopers? Disgraceful._ Kaai shook her head. It was hard to believe anyone on this ship could pose any real threat to her master, but no Sith lived very long without a healthy dose of paranoia. She recalled the tracking devices and listening devices she had tucked away in her belt pouch.

_I may as well follow-through on surveillance, even these drunkards may prove an irritant. _She swung down onto a maintenance catwalk near the skylight with a predator's grace, and moved quickly across the grating with barely a sound. The Republic ship's guard was laughable, with what seemed to be its entire squad of troopers busy swilling Onderonian ale near the Hangar door. She silently dropped down to the floor behind it, using the force to cushion her fall, she ensured that the troopers were still unaware before attaching a small tracking device to the rear-landing strut. As she was attaching the transmitter, the door slammed open and a female voice rang out,

"Sith!" The buzz of a lightsaber sparking to life followed. Kaai was surprised; she'd taken great care to hide her force presence, but this Jedi had found her within seconds. Kaai peered around the strut to see a small Twi'lek, blue skinned, like her master, staring right at her hiding place.

The Jedi jumped at her, lightsaber slashing down in an arc of lavender. Kaai reacted reflexively, snapping her lightsaber out and blocking the blow inches before it hit, sparking out into orange and purple shards of light. The Jedi was swift, and flexible. She twisted down blows in unexpected angles. But Kaai was catching on fast to the flow of the battle, and soon uncertainty began to drip into the Jedi's emotions.

"Who are you?" The Jedi called out, jumping back out of range.  
"I am Kaai Tel'an," She replied, drawing the force to her hand, feeling the electricity bubble up from within. "What are you doing on the Empire's planet?" With the final syllable, she struck out, blasting the Twi'lek with an electric charge and knocking her back into the ship's hull. The Jedi dropped to one knee, and her head snapped up to glare at Kaai.

Then the Jedi jumped at her again, this time her swings faster and more ferocious. Kaai sidestepped one and dropped in a punch, sending the Twi'lek back a few paces. And then the apprentice felt something tickling at the back of her mind. She ignored it, for another swing dropped down from above, and Kaai let it collide with her own lightsaber, and, using her superior weight and height to overpower the Jedi, she pushed further and further down, so that both blades were inching closer to the Twi'lek's neck, sizzling hungrily. And then, right in the midst of Kaai's sure victory, the Jedi easily stepped back.  
Kaai tried to move after her, but found herself frozen in place. She tried to move. Her arms and legs would not respond. Frustration flared up in her. "Release me, you Jedi witch!" She struggled in vain against the peculiar prison, unable to even move her Lekku.

"I will destroy you!"  
"Please, try to relax." The Twi'lek closed her eyes.  
"I'll never submit to a Jedi!" Kaai struggled even harder, throwing herself at the prison. Suddenly, the sensation of a knife sliding into her back overtook her. Pain shot down her spine. Kaai gasped out in shock.  
"I tried to warn you."

And then, a sensation of fingers tickling the insides of her head. Kaai felt the Jedi traverse her mind. The Sith had no idea what she could see, or how to fight this unusual power, but Kaai fought it best she could, ignoring the pain her resistance brought.

"What? In there?!" A man's voice echoed from afar.  
"By the force, not now..." The Twi'lek whispered.  
The sound of the door hissing open, and a Jedi's blade being ignited came to Kaai's ears. If she could've gulped, she would've; the sensation of imminent doom filled her.

"Joei! No!" A shock of surprise ran through her, but not from Kaai's own mind. It seemed to be sent to her, perhaps from the Jedi. Sensing the prison's release, Kaai jumped, pulling on the force for speed. But it wasn't fast enough.  
The man's saber ran through her side, slashing outwards and cutting across her wrist, rendering it useless. Kaai screamed out in pain.  
"What are you doing, Joei!" The Twi'lek was yelling. "Were you trying to kill her?"  
Kaai glanced over her shoulder, catching an odd sight. The Twi'lek was restraining her Jedi friend, Joei, she assumed, from bringing another blow down to finish the Sith off.  
"Let go of me!" The Jedi roared. He made a move as if to shove the Twi'lek off of him. Kaai wasn't about to stick around to see if he succeeded. She took off for the door, blinded by pain, navigating almost entirely by the echolocation of her montrals.

Clutching her wrist she burst through the door and sprinted for her ship, calling out for her Protocol droid. "Three-Zee! Set course for somewhere other than here!" The engine ignited and relief flooded over her. She slumped over the holotable, pressing into her side with her damaged arm and trying her best to breathe evenly as she punched in the code. "Master... I... I've been bested. Republic troopers are pursuing you, as well as at least two Jedi. One... Paralyzed me with a strange jedi technique. I can't go on, I'm heavily wounded.. End message."

She limped to the medical bay, shedding bloodstained clothing as she went. Her personal medical droid activated.

"Mistress, you are wounded. Can I be of assistance?

"Shut up... Sawbones!" She gasped, limping towards the kolto tank. "Wake me when the wounds are okay for movement." were her last words as she donned the re-breather and lowered her bare form into the tank, allowing the painkillers to soothe her burning skin.


	6. Welcome To The Jungle

Welcome To The Jungle

Lord Drakal the Bloodthirsty was a simple man. But he knew when things were stirring beneath the surface. As soon as they had gotten to their ship, Nozz'Ivix had taken to being very quiet. And if there was one thing the Twi'lek was not, it was quiet. He'd seen the blue alien messing with a holo-communicator, and though Drakal wasn't worried, he _was _intrigued.

Having already emptied most of the good alcohol on the ship in the first day, he felt very little urge to sift through the various remaining vintages in the lounge. He instead had found his way to the pilot's chair, admiring the various tweaks and upgrades the ship they were on made use of.

The hyperdrive was of high grade materials, making hyperspace maintenance far less of a concern than if it were a Telosian freighter or something. The weapon handling was phenomenal, as the targeting computers were top notch. This allowed for far higher accuracy and much faster firefights, along with less repair time after a battle.

As he sat back and watched the large green-covered moon slowly grow larger in the window, he noticed a flickering light on the dashboard. Frowning, he decided to see what it did.  
"Master... I... I've been bested. Republic troopers are pursuing you, as well as at least two Jedi. One... Paralyzed me with a strange jedi technique. I can't go on, I'm heavily wounded.. End message."

Drakal pursed his lips as he listened, and his frown deepened.  
_A paralyzing Jedi technique? Interesting._  
While he knew Ivix would likely also have heard this on his holocommunicator, she must have been truly hurried if she had sent it to the ship comm as well. It wasn't long before the Twi'lek stormed to the bridge.

"How long until we land on Dxun?" Ivix was visibly irritated, despite efforts to hide it. Drakal could feel the annoyance in the man, and he wanted to smile at his obvious discomfort, but kept himself in check.

"Shouldn't be more than thirty minutes, tops. Why?"

"There are some Jedi following us, and they've damaged something of mine. I intend to set a little trap for these interlopers." He couldn't help but let his smile through this time, and his fangs showed over his lips in a gruesome grin.

"Oh really? Well I'm liking this trip more and more. And that Jedi with the force technique... Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
Ivix narrowed his eyes.

"I'll forgive you for looking at my messages this time. But I think I do. I've swept for bugs, and the only thing they could trace would be the holocron leaking past the shield. Imagine if I were to drop it, for even a moment. It'd be like a flare on Dagobah."

"Dagobah?" His face twisted into a look of confusion, but shook his head to dismiss it before the Twi'lek could elaborate. "Never mind. Look, I say we could trap these Jedi easily, but it will require the right battlefield. When we land, let me scout for a location while you get your precious force wound out of the way."

"Indeed. These wounds are proving to be very useful. When the Jedi arrive, don't worry about their backup, I have a plan. All it'll take is a little hole in the shielding to bring them running. Like Jawas to a trash heap." A triumphant smirk came to Ivix's lips.

Drakal kept his skepticism restricted to his facial expressions, but eventually just shrugged. He knew what his plan would be, and it had never failed him before.

* * *

"You were aiming to kill! I saw you!"  
"Peace, Dia! Let it go already!"  
"I won't! Not until you admit it! That was anger possessing you, Joei. Anger is the path to the dark side."  
"I'm not going to fall to the dark side! You're way too paranoid."  
"I'm not! Listen to me!"

When Estela entered the hangar, the last thing she expected to find was Dia and Joei squabbling. A few troopers stood off to the side, clearly drunk despite their best efforts to hide it, looking down or anywhere else but at the two arguing individuals. One of them ran outside and let out a belch which he had the manners to look embarrassed about before marching back to the group.

"I think I should hold on to your lightsaber for you." Dia was saying, arms crossed tight at her chest. "You lack the self-control to handle the responsibility that comes with power."

"Oh, come off it." Joei snarled. "Like you're one to talk! You were letting her walk all over you."  
Dia gasped. "I was completely in control of the situation."

"Hey!" Estela shouted, causing both Jedi turn to face her. "What's going on?" Her eyes ran over the burning cuts on the sides of the ship's interior, and the matching singe marks on Dia's clothing.

"Ask him." Dia said crossly, motioning towards Joei who just rolled his eyes.

"Did you meet with the Sith?" Estela approached Dia, looking her over with concern.

"Yes, but I'm fine." Dia sighed. "I had her in a mind-link. She was paralyzed. I was going to-"

"Yeah, right. Sure you did." Joei cut in. "That Sith was hardly in a position of weakness. She could've broken through that link any second. If I hadn't come in when I did-"

"Your pride will destroy you!" Dia said, eyes flashing.  
Joei's fist curled up in a brief spout of anger but he let out a breath, loosening his clenched fingers. He stared intensely at the ground.

"Well," Estela said. "I gather a Sith showed up."  
Dia looked away from Joei reluctantly. "Yes, though she seemed too weak to be fully-trained. I battled her, but due to Joei's and my altercation at a crucial moment, she escaped."

"You said you put a mind-link on her. Did you get anything out of it? Anything helpful?"

"Well, it seems like she's an apprentice. From the memories I found, she-" Suddenly Dia's eyes widened and her hand clutched her head, as though beset by a sudden headache. "Wait, I..." She shut her eyes tight. "I sense something. There's a path suddenly... no, it's... I lost i-... wait... There." Her eyes opened, and a brilliant smile cut across her features. "The signal! The artifact! For a brief second there, I got it!"

"Uh, well, good." Estela was a little lost.

"To Dxun!" Dia'Vei called out, running back into the ship. "Put in coordinates for the Jungle Moon Dxun!"

Joei stared after the Twi'lek, looking a bit confused, reserved though the sentiment was behind the strange emotion that clouded his face.

"So, what happened, Joei?" Estela asked quietly. "Did you lose it?"

He was silent. Estela was convinced he had resolved to ignore her until, "I don't know." The words were stated just under his breath.

Stiffly, the man followed the excited Twi'lek inside, Estela only a step behind.

This mention of Joei snapping concerned her. He'd always been the rock of the group, the exemplary one when it came to discipline and resolve, but it seemed this new enemy was unlocking portions of Joei's personality neither she nor Dia were aware of. The best she could do for now was keep an eye on him.

* * *

Ivix grinned as he waved his hand over the holocron, reactivating the shield. "They'll be here soon enough Drakal, now where is this monster you spoke of?" The Sith had a smile on as they followed the jungle trail, but he kept silent and continued leading them forward. They had only been down on Dxun for maybe ten minutes, and Drakal was adamant that he see something of particular interest.

After a short trek, Drakal led them into an open clearing, surrounded heavily by trees and foliage. At the far end of the clearing was a large cave carved into the side of a cliff face, and he proceeded towards its entrance.

"This is a Zakkeg lair, Ivix. And since you are the one with all the fancy party tricks, I figured you might know how to make something like this be a bit more friendly?"

"A Zakkeg. Nice find, but it won't slow the Jedi for long. It may make a meal out of their backup before it dies though."

"If it distracts them for a time, what does it matter? And not only that, but this is a perfect spot for an ambush. Up against this cliff side leaves them exposed from all angles."

"Ah, so you can think tactically. If we were to leave the holocron as bait, an ambush from behind could easily make this fight one-sided."  
Drakal turned in mid-stride and pointed a finger in Ivix's face.

"You may not know me for much beside slaughter, Twi'lek, but no one is my equal when it comes to a battlefield. I won't have you insulting me or my profession."

"Then act it. We were lucky on Onderon; not all problems can be sliced in half."

"Luck had nothing to do with it. My skill alone are what got those rebels even a quarter as far as they got. Now, can you tame this beast or not?"

"A simple affair." He raised his hand to the cave mouth, and spoke with the force behind his words.

"Zakkeg. You are now mine, you shall serve me on pain of death!" When he lowered his arm, the massive Quadruped lumbered out and dipped its head towards the Twi'Lek. "Here's your monster Warrior. Where do you want it?" Ivix's question went unanswered at first, as the pureblood stared in fascination at the scaly monstrosity.

"I always wanted one of these... Put it back in its cave for now. That apprentice of yours better not be lying."

"Kaai is a professional. And it's hard to fake wounds like that." His fist clenched  
slightly as he stared up at the sky, "The Jedi are coming, and here they will fall."

* * *

Lord Drakal sat atop a boulder near the Zakkeg's cave entrance, idly swinging his leg over one side as he passed the time. It felt odd, having this much of a plan for battle. usually his fights were structured by others, giving him little chance to make the plans himself. He found he rather enjoyed the prospect of being the only one truly capable of commanding. Sure, the Twi'lek could pass in a pinch, but Drakal knew he was no strategist.

Feeling his surroundings with the force, he knew a few creatures had already come and gone nearby, most likely to check what this new creature was that had invaded their territory. But he felt nothing big out there. The fact that a Zakkeg was here made any other animal wary at best, and so he relaxed. He always found it good to relax before a battle; If you didn't enjoy your time here in this universe, then what was the point?

His thoughts were interrupted by a presence in the force, not a creature, but a ship. He laid his head back down on the boulder and laughed, his deep voice making the nearby pest-creatures scatter.  
_It won't be long now._

Their plan was a good one, and he could feel the Twi'lek out in the forest, but he couldn't help feeling distrustful of relying on him for aid. Shaking the feeling, he sat up a little, enough to fish out his mask from his pocket and place it over his face. Feeling his mask's tribal markings with his bare fingers and tracing them gave him a sense of eagerness. It was such a rare opportunity to fight Jedi unsupervised by Darths, and he did not intend to waste this chance at prestige.

* * *

White-armored men exited the spaceship, weapons at the ready. Signalling their way into the forest, the group covered the ground in speed and militant efficiency. Three jedi followed a few steps behind them, their brown and earthy clothing blending in seamlessly with the jungle floor.

"It won't be long now..." Dia whispered excitedly. Estela knew the lack of population on this Jungle Moon was the perfect location in which Dia could demonstrate her power. With nothing to interrupt her connection to the object, Dia led the group -soldiers holding up the rear- deep into the jungle.

The jungle was deep and dark, and the further in they travelled, the more the darkness of nature pressed down upon them. So when Estela caught sight of light peeking out from amongst the trees, a sense of excitement rose up in her.

"Just beyond here." Dia was saying. "Not long now."  
And just as they were about to step into the light, Dia let out a scream. She, clutching at her head, collapsed to the ground. And then Estela felt the fluctuation of the Artifact's force aura rapidly expanding, rushing over her and drowning out all else.

"Dia!" Estela yelled, dropping down next to her. "Dia!" She called out again. Dia was completely unresponsive, her face tight with agitation.

"What happened?" Joei came up beside them, but stayed a pace or two away.

"I don't know! She was fine until-"

The sound of laughter echoing around the opening drew their attention up higher, where a sith in full battle armor sat lazily atop a boulder. His mask was the usual design worn by Sith combatants, but it was adorned with deep red tribal carvings that trailed around it, making the visage somewhat unsettling.

"Ah! So the Jedi do have some backbone! And here I thought I'd be left waiting." He heaved himself off the boulder and landed on his feet with a earthy thud about ten feet down.

Joei tensed up beside her, but Estela threw out an arm.

"What do you want, Sith?"

The robed and armored figure laughed once more, and began lazily walking towards a cave entrance.

"I think we can agree this meeting isn't about what I want, but I imagine you are here for this?" He gestured to an ornately designed holocron sitting atop a patch of grass and moss near the cave entrance.

Estela tore her eyes from it. The prize was so close it made her tremble. "What, and we're supposed to believe you're going to just hand it over?" She crossed her arms. "You've already attacked our friend. I don't see this encounter going anywhere good."

"But I thought Jedi always sought the way of peace? That all life was precious?" His sarcasm was heavy, and his stance radiated amusement.

"Life is precious." Joei cut in. "When you aren't someone that lives off of defiling it."

"The hypocrisy of the Jedi never ceases to amuse me. Here, have a taste of reality." The Sith stepped aside from the cave entrance, and heavy footfalls could be felt through the ground.

From within the cave a claw emerged first, its sharp edges digging into the dirt. A nose and extensive arrangement of teeth came out after, into the air, sniffing about. Two giant horns stuck out on either side of its forehead, giving it a devilish visage. Its head was followed by a muscled and armored torso that looked to be made of what might pass as tank plating. The carapace of this creature was reminiscent of a large lizard, but so heavily built that what few lizard-like features remained were hard to spot.

It lumbered into the clearing, its eyes red and its force aura drenched in anger. The Sith began to laugh again.  
"See, this is what happens when we screw around letting a Sith lead the  
conversation." Joei snapped, drawing and igniting his lightsaber.

Estela glowered at the Sith, who gave her a toothy grin, before drawing her own lightsaber.

"Holy Druk."  
"That's a kriffing..."  
"Zakkeg."  
Fear flowed from the men behind the Jedi. But they were trained men, soldiers hardened from battle, and trained for the sake of resolve, which overcame fear.

"Men, at the ready." The commanding officer said calmly. "Prepare to fire at will."  
The Zakkeg's head swung to and fro as it bellowed. Its clawed foot scratched the dirt in a show of aggression. Joei readied himself to jump directly at the creature.

"Fire!"

The forest came alight with the shooting of blasters, causing successions of red light to bathe the jungle foliage. But despite the show of bravado, it was all for naught. Their blaster shots reflected off the monster's tough hide to bounce uselessly into the jungle. A yell rang up from the group, and a few lowered their blasters in shock.

Sensing the soldiers fear, it roared and charged forward, its large feet tearing up the ground. It rushed straight at the Jedi. Estela and Joei dove out of its destructive path, and it barreled right into the line of soldiers. Yells rang out from behind, and Estela jumped to her feet, about to chase after the Zakkeg when a flash of red expanded to the left of her vision.

She, rolling, narrowly dodged the saber's blade, feeling the singe of its heat brush by her ear.

The Sith stood, smirking, above her. He pointed his saber between her eyes, marking her for the kill.

And then Joei came at him from behind, lightsaber falling down in an arc. The Sith dodged the Jedi's attack, leaping up and backwards in a flip. He landed facing them both. And the masked Sith twirled his saber in anticipation.

"You're nothing but a coward." Joei growled. "Do Sith have no code of honor?"

Estela moved in behind Joei, concentrating and calling on the force. She threw a field of energy over her friend, covering him in a sure protective film.  
Joei came at the Sith in confidence, carelessly stabbing at him. The sith didn't even move at first, and sidestepped at the last moment, cracking the butt of his saber on the back of Joei's head and making him stumble to the ground.

"Are you sure your master knows you aren't in class?" The Sith mocked.  
Groaning, Joei recovered, pushing himself up from the dirt and swung again in the Sith's direction. His blue blade was inches from the Sith's head. A narrow miss.

Both feet planted firmly on the ground, the Jedi quickly molded his body into the Ataru stance, his blade held high above his head. It gave the aura of a snake prepared to strike.

The Sith assumed a defensive stance similar to Shi-cho, but the differences were telling. He kept both Estela and Joei in front of him as he began circling, his mask not letting a hint of his emotions through.

Joei struck, lightsaber snaking out and aiming right for the Sith's head. Taking the Jedi's blade upon his own, the Sith roared, turning it into a saber lock and slowly pushing Joei back. In a desperate attempt to avert the Sith's power, Joei threw himself to the side while slashing at the man's legs. He was rewarded for his move with a slash across his shoulder, which made him grunt in pain before the wound healed before their eyes.

The Sith glared down at the healed wound, and then his masked head swiveled around to lock onto Estela, who was seated in a cross-legged battle meditation.  
Joei stabbed at him again, throwing his whole body forward towards the Sith. The Sith dropped down and dodged the blow once more, but instead of hitting Joei, he pivoted and grabbed him along the shoulder, sending him careening towards Estela in an attempt to break her concentration.

Joei caught himself mid-air using the force, dropping a hand to stab into the dirt and stop inches before crashing into the other Jedi. He came at the Sith from the left, continuing the battle.  
The fight kept going back and forth, neither gaining advantage, but eventually Joei managed to get the Sith's back to her.

"Okay, Estela! Go!" He shouted, dipping his lightsaber down and using the hilt to smash into the Sith's mask. The mask went flying, revealing a blood-red face and feral yellow eyes that were glazed over in animalistic rage. He roared at the hit, seeming only to gain strength.

"What?" Estela called out, eyes closed. "You can't handle him alone, can you?"

"Don't worry about me! Just go!"  
Estela hesitated, but she felt, and had felt, in the force the soldiers' terror and panic, their dread of death. Tearing herself away from the battle, and drawing on the power of the force, she sprinted into the forest, leaving Joei to fight the creature alone.

* * *

The scent of blood was glorious, the feel of victory thrilling.  
The beast's paw dropped down on another soldier, crushing his back. Another flurry of blaster bolts hit the beast's armored shoulder, but it was little more than wind to the creature. The beast bellowed, power racing through its body. It stampeded forward, sniffing the air for survivors.  
It seemed they were up in the trees. Clever.

Lord Ivix smirked from his place among the trees. The force was an incredible thing, and to a creative mind, the pleasures were infinite. Having taken control of the beast using the force, Lord Ivix, through meditation, followed the beast's every move, pushing it to his will and glorying in its feral might.  
The beast charged one of the nearby trees, splintering into its trunk. There was a brief scream as one of the men lost his grip on the trees branches, but the heavy thud of him hitting the ground silenced it quickly.

_Only two left._ Ivix's smirk widened. And faded just as quickly. A sickening energy came to his senses. It was the Jedi, the human female Jedi.

She began calling on the soldiers to fall back while she charged at him. Feeling the beast's rage at something daring to challenge it, he let it loose; sending it barreling toward her. The Jedi leapt into the air and over the Zakkeg's head, making the beast spin around as it skidded to a halt. It looked about itself, head lurching from side to side as it looked for its quarry.

Through the creatures senses he felt something moving along it's back and he cursed. He urged the creature to buck and run, crashing itself into the nearest tree in an attempt to shake her. The sensation of searing fire and pain sliced down the creature's back, cutting down, down, right through to the heart. In an instant, his beast of destruction was dead.

With a sigh, he stood up from the meditation. He called out to Kreia's holocron a few hundred feet away, and felt it fly into his hand. The weight was a comforting one, and he stood straighter, a confident smile playing across his lips.

It was time he got personally involved.

* * *

Drakal gritted his teeth and pushed with all his might against the other man, and still he barely moved. He had to hand it to this Jedi, he had some natural skill.  
_Unfortunately for him, I have more._

"It was a mistake, sending your little friend away, Jedi. But at least this way she doesn't have to hear you scream." His face was inches away from the other man, and he saw his face contort in anger. Drakal's own anger was at full steam, and he could see the other man mentally weighing his options. Not letting the man time to think, He pulled back from the lock, surprising his opponent and giving him the opening he needed. He lifted the Jedi from his feet and flung him towards the cliff, where he impacted heavily before falling back down to the ground.

"What's wrong, Jedi? Feeling the pain without your healer around to save you? Don't worry, once I'm done with you I'll ensure she dies quickly." The Jedi was flagging, and it was becoming obvious. He panted heavily, and his saber stance was getting more and more ragged as the fight went on. Drakal let a grin slide through his teeth, and he advanced on the battered man with an almost lazy strut.

With one last roar the Jedi rushed him, but instead of his usual tack the man swung high, clipping off one of Drakal's face tendrils and sending it flying through the air. He clapped a hand to his face and howled in pain.  
His rage flew to new heights then, and it became almost unbearable as he began to swing violently at the wounded Jedi. His roar matched his swings in intensity and they no longer held any finesse. He beat down the blocking attempts from his prey until he flung the saber from the man's hands, leaving him defenseless.  
It was Drakal's turn to pant now, and he stared down at the exhausted Jedi, letting a twisted smile back onto his face.

"And so we arrive at the inevitable conclusion... I want you to know, Jedi. I want you to understand how fully you've lost before you die." He moved closer to the Human, and put a foot to his chest to drive his head back into the cliff wall. The man cried out in pain, but when Drakal lowered himself into a crouch he stopped squirming.  
"Your friends, your soldiers, and all that you love will all be lost to you. The Twi'lek will be made ours, and the human's will to fight will buckle and wilt before our might until nothing but her body remains. You have lost, Jedi. And it is all because _**you**_ weren't strong enough to stop it."

The Jedi's eyes snapped onto Drakal's own in fury. It was a fierce anger that swirled around the Jedi's aura, an anger intertwined with fear. Drakal gloried in it, excited that he had driven the Jedi to such a state. And in anticipation he stayed his blade, readying himself for the Jedi's eventual strike.  
But none came.  
The Jedi's anger suddenly ebbed, and an odd thing-peace, overflowed. The Jedi turned his head aside, his spirit giving itself up to the Force.

Drakal huffed in annoyance, but shrugged and let his wicked smile return to his face as he leveled his saber at the man's chest and slowly pushed the blade forward.

* * *

Ivix strode into the clearing that held his deceased monster, idly clapping. "Well done, Jedi. Not often that a Zakkeg is killed, especially not one controlled by a Sith Lord. However, now you face me." He summoned his saber to his hand and ignited it, the green blade springing to life.

"What?" Her face revealed confusion behind her weariness. "Green? Were you once a Jedi?"

"That's what I like about you Jedi, always thinking we Sith are simply misguided. I'll have you know, I was born Sith. As my parents and grandparents before me. This crystal is but a trophy." He said that final part with a pride, a smirk appearing on his face, thrown in eerie shadows by the green light.  
The Jedi shook her head.

"I hope I never come to understand such a twisted mind." She ignited her own yellow blade and stood at the ready. "Let's make this quick, Sith. I've got a friend waiting for me."

"Oh I'm sure he'll be patient. Jedi are good at that, right?" The air took on an electric charge, and he flung a bolt ahead of his charge.

The Jedi caught it on her saber, and he saw her face curl up in disgust at the sense of darkness from his power. She let out a breath, trying to stay calm. With a heave, she flung the bolt aside and jumped at the Sith, lightsaber out. Ivix adjusted his charge trajectory, he did not expect such an aggressive form from a Jedi, but raised his saber to catch her.

"I sense your skills lay in pursuits other than the blade. Come Jedi, show me what you got."

"I'm not here to play around." She said, twisting her sparking blade to catch the  
end of Sith's robe.  
In a swift motion, he moved out of the way, allowing him to follow through and slash at the Jedi, the attack caught the side of her face, or it should've.

The lightsaber's blade, the side of it that should have made contact, elongated around her skin. Ivix felt his eyes bulge slightly at this, and his stunned look must have shown.

Taking advantage of the Sith's surprise, she struck at him in the arm, glancing across his hand. He leaped backwards at her successful attack, simultaneously striking her with a heavy telekinetic push, sending her flying and crashing into a tree. The tree splintered at the impact, and her body blasted a crater deep into its trunk.

Ivix gave her a moment, allowing her to recover. It wasn't long before she clambered out of the trunk, levelling him with a fierce glare. There was an impatience to her pace as she charged him. Ivix had some idea why.

Through the force he felt the male Jedi's aura growing weak. It had lingered and waned, but now it flared up in anger alongside the ever raging inferno that was Drakal's fury. Ivix knew Drakal's battle was going well and he smiled insidiously. The Jedi yelled, and threw the Force like a cannon ball directly to him with one hand. He sidestepped the wave, letting it obliterate the tree behind him, then gestured towards the Jedi.

"Come dear, your friend isn't getting any livelier."

The Jedi clenched her teeth, but her eyes stared calmly at him. The Jedi's center was like the eye of the storm, though her emotions flitted between impatience and fury. She threw another push towards him, and a third in quick succession. And those, which came from below, she jumped over, bringing her lightsaber down in an arc. A second before impact, she changed course, using the Force to push her blade down at the Sith's head while her fist, its power heightened by the force, slammed into his ribs. Unable to dodge both, Ivix took the fist's blow, being pushed back far enough to evade the saber's slash at his head. The attack blew the breath out of him. He coughed and jumped back, raising his guard and catching his breath.

As Ivix regained his composure he felt a sudden surge in the force, a furnace of hate so strong he felt as though he should cover his eyes from the heat. Drakal's sudden rage was mixed with pain, but Ivix could feel the male Jedi still fading.

_No fight comes without losses... or more likely scars, in this case._

In his brief moment of inattention he felt a strong wind to his left as the Jedi ran past him. Calling her lightsaber to her hand, she sped into the forest. She was heading straight for the clearing where Drakal fought with the male Jedi.

_How amusing, Jedi._ Ivix followed after her, matching the Jedi's speed.

* * *

Estela halted at the edge of the clearing to a fearsome sight. The Sith had one boot on Joei's abdomen, and his blade was slowly pushing itself into Joei's chest.  
Estela cried out, and threw her lightsaber at the Sith. But before the saber came near its goal, it was intercepted. It was thrown down by a dark energy, one that matched the presence behind her. Time seemed to slow as the Sith crouching over Joei continued his torture unfazed.

Joei did not make a single sound. He was still, so still that it seemed death had already overtaken him. He took one last breath and and his eyes widened as the sword finally plunged deep, and his eyes slowly dimmed out.  
"No!" Estela cried. She ran at the Sith, calling her saber, but the sudden laughter from behind made her stop.  
She spun around to see the Twi'lek standing over Dia's unconscious form. He stooped down to check her pulse, smiling as he did so.

"She's at my mercy now Jedi, surrender and you may both yet live." His green blade stood poised at her neck. Estela's face twisted. It was an abomination that such a monster should wield a weapon intended for good.

"You cowardly Sith..." She moaned. Her saber dropped from her fingers.

The Twi'Lek, smirking, called the hilt to his hand. The other sith, the murderer, the one that had killed Joei, had finally stopped staring at his corpse. Turning on his heel, he marched toward Estela, calling his mask back to his hand from the ground nearby.

She gave him a weary look, and hate tinged the edges of her gaze.

"Well? Are you going to kill me now?" She grit her teeth. "Just get it over with, would you?" Both Sith laughed out loud at her words, making her cringe.

"Kill you?" The pureblood Sith practically whispered as he approached her.

"Oh, no. We have much better plans in store for you." The Twi'lek chuckled. The Sith closest to her walked in a circle around her, and she kept her arms at her sides, following his movement with her eyes. It took visible effort not to lash out.

"Such resolve... You're going to be all kinds of fun, aren't you?" She bit her tongue; knowing replying to their taunts would only grant them further pleasure.

"Let's not leave the little Jedi waiting, Drakal. She's an impatient one, you know." The Twi'lek was behind her so she couldn't see his face, but she heard the glee in his words.

"With pleasure." The Sith had just walked around her left shoulder when she felt something hard smash into the side of her head. Her vision flared white in pain, and then, blackness.


	7. A Slap In The Face

A Slap In The Face

Lord Ivix sat at a table on his ship, idly staring at the holocron as it glowed mildly before him. He usually had these conversations with Kreia in the privacy of his own cabin, but today was different. He had to keep an eye on his new prisoners. They had parked the ship almost right on top of the ancient battlefield between the Republic and the Mandalorians, and the force wound it had created.

"The energy from the force wounds sustain me. It has increased my power, and, by extension, yours." The disembodied voice of the betrayer floated through the air, Ivix nodded, glad this business was under way. He had a Jedi to deal with after all.

As if sensing his thoughts, the holocron spoke up once more. "I sense that the Jedi still live. Their energy corrupts the air of this ship. Why did you not kill them when they were at your mercy?"

"They may yet prove useful. And I have more than enough resources at my disposal in order to turn them to suit my ends." Ivix eyed Kreia's ghostly form with sudden interest. "Though, I do have a request of you."

"Ask."

"The draining force technique that you mentioned to me before, the one that I witnessed you use from within this holocron to drain those Jedi masters on Coruscant. I perceive that you are able to use Force techniques from within this device."

"That is correct. What of it?"

"My request is this: in a less fatal form of that technique, steal from the Jedi their energy in the force, but only enough to incapacitate them, confuse them, and weaken them, not harm them."

"That will take a great deal of restraint on my part." Kreia said. "Perhaps you could say please."

"Please." Ivix replied coolly. "Now, old woman, where is the next wound, and what more do you have to teach me?" The holocron was silent for a moment, as though the entity within were gathering its thoughts.

"It is an odd thing, the force. It squirms and writhes when you try to control it, but flows and soothes when you rescind to it control. That never ceased to aggravate me. The wound at Malachor was no different from the one there. It was a source of comfort for me, a shelter from its contradictory nature. Wounds are often formed with the deaths of many force users, like a destroyed enclave. My academy on Malachor is an example of this; it is the tomb of many powerful Sith. It might even still be standing after all these years... "

* * *

Estela awoke in a room bleak and sparsely decorated, one filled with shelves and shelves of small, red pyramidal shapes.

_Sith Holocrons?_ She wondered, peering all around. She recalled seeing images of them during her Padawan training, but though those were the same pyramid shape, they had been yellow and black, like bumblebees. These red ones she knew little about.

Then the whispers started. It was a melding of hissing, sharp sounds that cut at the edges of Estela's mind, harsh voices and foreign language making her unable to focus, she squeezed her eyes shut as they whispered in an unrecognizable language. She struggled against her bonds, set on edge by the sounds, but found her hands were stuck together behind her back. And, rising above the noise, from beyond the door in front of her was a conversation between the Sith Twi'Lek and another, one with the raspy voice of an elderly woman.

"...Yes, my student. With this, no force user can stand against you." A pause.

"What is it, Darth Traya?"

"It seems your guests have awakened."

Footsteps followed the voices, sounding louder and closer. Estela knew she didn't have much time.

"Estela, are you awake now?" It was Dia, from behind her. Estela couldn't quite see her face, but concern hinged on the edges of the Twi'lek's tone. "Don't be alarmed. I think our connection to the force is being smothered by these Holocrons, these red variants are full of dark side power."

Estela noticed with a start that this was true. The bleariness that had clouded her mind was present, but with it, she was now aware, accompanied was a sense of loss. Suddenly the knowledge of it hit her like a hammer. She felt blind, deaf. Another dimension had been stolen from her.

"What do they want from us?" Estela whispered. Fear was creeping in.

"I don't know." Dia squirmed. "But I think we'll figure it out soon enough. So stay calm and focused. Remember what matters."

Estela nodded, biting her lip. Focus was all well and good, but the Jedi was no good at being calm.

The door opened with a clank as the Twi'lek Sith strode in, a smirk on his face.

"I do apologize for the lack of hospitality, but we need to have a little talk. I'll just take your friend with me and my associate will be with you shortly." With that, he hoisted Dia's bound form, pulling her by the wrists.

Estela grit her teeth at the poor treatment, but there was nothing she could do to help. Dia stared at Estela calmly as the Sith dragged her from the room.

* * *

Drakal sat in the lounge, his normal haunt when on the ship, when Ivix yelled for him. The Twi'Lek Jedi in tow.

"Drakal. Your prisoner awaits!" The sith once again however was snoring loudly, with his feet up on the table and his head tilted back on the head rest.

Ivix placed the Jedi on a couch and waved a hand, throwing Drakal's boot at his head.

Drakal snorted loudly as he flung himself out of his chair with wide eyes and ignited the saber in his hand. He looked around like a wild animal for a second or two before he saw Ivix standing there.

"What? Are they up already?"

"Yes, she's in the Holocron storage. A real firebrand, right up your alley."

Drakal snorted and disengaged his lightsaber with a short hiss. "Fine. Ten credits says I break mine first."

The Twi'Lek snorted and said nothing as Drakal marched towards the room.

"Now, I did a little rooting around while you were unconscious, Dia, is it? It's strange to see another Rutian this far from Ryloth. Have you ever been there? The Midlands are forever locked in the most beautiful sunset." He smiled, trying to catch her off guard.

She stared at the floor, expression stoic and impassive. No response was forthcoming.

"Come now Dia, I'm trying to be hospitable here, not like my brute of a partner. What did the Jedi tell you? That I eat babies for breakfast?"  
She closed her eyes, breathing in and out slowly.  
"Can we not be civil? I'd offer you a drink, but I know you'd never accept it. Plus," he paused as Estela's scream echoed through the ship "You really don't want to see what's behind door number two."

"Are you trying to befriend me after killing my friend?" Dia whispered. "Is that what the Sith are?"

"I was not the one to kill your friend." Ivix said gently. "I wish things could have gone better, but my associate lacks the restraint of those with our power."

Screams rang out once again, chilling the air of the sitting room.

Dia shivered. "You _allow _your 'associate' to commit such atrocities. You don't seem much conflicted about his actions."

"Dia, believe me, if I had my way, he'd have been spaced when we first took off. I bear no ill will towards you or your friend, but the current, and dangerous, situation dictates I leave him alive for the time being." He began pacing around the room, holding the glass close to his lips. "You may see me as evil incarnate but I just want to let you know that he," He jerked his thumb in Drakal's direction. "Is the exception, not the rule." He sipped his drink, "The Jedi are no better than we are, perhaps even worse."

"Worse? That's ridiculous..." She said under her breath, but loud enough for the lord to hear. "You Sith are the ones seeking your own good over the good of others."

"Oh? And what do the Jedi do?" He mused.

Dia straightened, and though her voice trembled, she spoke with confidence. "The Jedi seek the good of others. They uphold the peace. They care for-"

"Kidnapping Children is peaceful? I'd love to see what you think evil is. The ideal Jedi are all emotionally dead, so they do not realize what they've lost. You are a Rutian Twi'Lek, do you know what your life should have been? You could have owned massive swathes of land, your own vassals, you could have been a queen." He drew a holocron off the nearby shelf, Jedi in origin, or so it appeared. "This is the holocron of Jedi Master Ral'Heen, a Twi'Lek Jedi that cut all ties when he discovered what they'd done to him. Touch it, and see what you could have been."

She shook her head. "Whatever I've lost as a citizen, I have gained tenfold as a Jedi."

"What about a family that loves you? The love of a mother, the warmth of your own home on the homeworld?" Ivix asked, raising a brow.

"The Jedi Enclave is my home, Coruscant my homeworld. I have experienced the love of a hundred mothers through masters Xia'Ka, Yula, Korith, and Ben'Hamur. I know the family's touch. I know brotherly affection, from Joei. Sisterly affection, from Estela."

No sooner had she finished that screams rang out once again, this time ragged and desperate. Dia cringed at the sound.

"A hundred mothers that each had a hundred children, who only cared about shaping you into a weapon from childhood, siblings that are blood only by the same unfortunate circumstances. Your suffering is tenfold worse than anyone elses, because you don't even know what happened." Ivix held the box out towards her, the Jedi designs positioned so that they pointed directly at her, the swirling marks standing out plainly against a blue surface.

Her eyes looked over them with raised eyebrows, recognition spreading across her frame. Ivix held back a smile. The authenticity of his hard-won holocron shone through. A bit of trust broke through her guarded expression. And then, just as he had predicted, Dia began moving towards it.

The Jedi reached out with her bound hands, placing them atop the proffered holocron, her eyes going wide on contact, her green eyes meeting the purple ones of her captor.

Much like meditation, she felt her awareness of her surroundings take on a new dimension. But unlike meditation, she was not surrounded by Force Energy; instead, it was as though all her senses had been transported to another place.

She was suddenly on another planet. Ryloth, she assumed, as she had never seen it herself. The sensation of silk clung close to her body, and the coolness of gold hung on her lekku. She looked around to see that she was in a ballroom, a deep yellow sun hung perpetually in the sky beyond the massive portrait windows, framed by a hole in the cave wall dug out by Twi'lek artisans. Twi'leks of all colours swayed around the room, dancing and laughing and socializing. The place brought on a sense of familiarity, and a sense of belonging. Dia felt tears sting her eyes.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, a presence she recognized in the force, the Sith that had brought her here. Suddenly her illusion came crashing down and she remembered what had happened.

She turned to see him in elegant black evening-wear, his features warmed by a smile, accentuated by the black marks on his cheekbones.

"Do you like what you see Lady Vei? All of Ryloth's nobility is here to see you. You, the long-lost Lady of Kala'uun returning from her lengthy exile."

She stared at him, and the wetness in her eyes faded. "No. No, I can't be part of this. I'm not one of them. I am a Jedi." But, despite her words, her breath heightened. The richness of her surrounds overwhelmed her. "I can't be here. I don't belong here. There is no emotion, there is peace, There is no emotion.." She continued chanting and Ivix sighed.

He turned away, his walk calm and purposeful. His boots clacked against the marble floor. His hands glowed with the power of the holocron. Ivix cast a glance at her over his shoulder, and, seeing that she had once more gained a hold of herself, began again, "While this place is amazing, it lacks a familiar touch. A taste of that which I mentioned; true blood ties. And this is where Master Heen was masterful. His holocron contains a genetic record of every major Twi'Lek family. Do you wish to see how you came to be among the Jedi?"

Before she could answer, the scene faded out, and she was standing at the edge of a baby's cot, a small blue child with bright green eyes lying within.

"Where are we?" she asked, peering around fearfully without knowing why.

"The Holocron allows us to temporarily flow walk. I've found your genetic signature and brought this memory to our attention." His lips thinned. "This is the night the Jedi took you." With this, the sound of arguing broke through the house.

"Please! She's my only daughter, you can't take her from me!"  
"Peace, Mistress Vei. Her force potential is incredible. She has a bright future in store for her as a member of the Order."  
"She's _my _child! You don't have the right to decide where she belongs!"

The continued exchange between the mother and the Jedi was painful, and Ivix himself was actually relieved when the door swung open, fully illuminating a luxurious baby bedroom adorned with stuffed animals and pictures.  
The Jedi strode over and lifted the baby -rather roughly, Ivix noted- who tightly grasped a small stuffed Rycrit, which the Jedi promptly wrested from her grip and tossed into the crib, walking out, revealing Dia's sobbing mother, comforted by her stiff-lipped father.

"That's enough. Please, take me somewhere else." The image faded back into the ballroom, the Twi'leks still dancing happily, content.

The Jedi peered around and noticed two Twi'leks from before, her mother and father, happily eating at the table at the far end. They caught her gaze and waved happily. Tears welling in her eyes, Dia returned the gesture. "Why show me this, Sith?"

"So that you would know the truth. The Jedi are naught but liars; they preach peace but are in fact no greater than a cult that kidnaps and brainwashes its own members. Our people are proud, and they reduce you to their lackey because you are powerful. They seek to use you towards their own ends, and give you not one speck of credit for all your labor. As a Jedi, they have enslaved you, just as our people have been enslaved for thousands of years, no thanks to the Republic. But as a Sith, you get what you deserve. As a Sith, you achieve greatness according to your ability and drive. I personally own my ancestral lands on Ryloth, and not one speck of blood spilled over it. As a Sith, I tasted freedom and the greatness of our species." He offered her a hand, running the other one down her Lekku. "Join me Dia, and we can bring the Jedi to justice."

Dia took his hand, expression pensive, but bordering on trusting. "They aren't as terrible as you think." She stared into his eyes quietly and then ducked her head. "And I... I can't betray them like that. They're my family." The vision whited out and she found herself once more sitting on a couch aboard the Sith's ship, her lavish ball gown replaced with her plain Jedi robes and her jewelled lekku once more wrapped in a simple leather harness.

Ivix sat across from her, the holocron still sitting upon his hand. "Very well, Dia. But remember, my offer is always open."

* * *

Lord Drakal eased his saber along the top of the Jedi's arm, painfully burning the top of the skin. She cringed and closed her eyes, hissing at the searing pain. Drakal smirked, watching as the top layer of skin boiled from the heat.

"Once more, what is your name?" He increased the pressure but didn't let it actually touch her, burning her even more intensely. Her cringing eyes squeezed tighter and her hands gripped into fists so hard her knuckles were completely white.  
"Estela!" She finally gasped out a name and he waited a second or two before finally taking the saber away from her flesh.  
"Very good. Now Estela, I'm sure you think yourself tough. You may even be thinking about escaping." He huffed his amusement as he got up from his crouch beside her and walked to the nearby table. He sat down facing her and smiled savagely. "However I can assure you that as the hours turn to days, and days to weeks, you'll forget such notions. You see, turning someone to the darkside is lot like tuning a ship engine. Turn the wrong knob or flip the wrong switch, and it all completely falls apart. But adjust for the pain, and things get much easier. Once you see this pointless bravado won't help you, things will be clearer."

The woman was staring straight forward at the door, her breathing heavy and bruises telling. She had resolve alright, but he knew she could feel the pull. He felt a slight ripple in her thoughts, the pool of serenity disturbed by a light wind.

"Yes... you feel it, do you not? The questions you've always wanted answers to, questions about the things that the Jedi won't allow. And the times you've pondered using your incredible gifts for yourself once in awhile?" He nodded knowingly. "These things do not make a person evil, or incapable of feeling. quite the contrary. It is one's passions that give one strength. With that strength, you can take what you want from this life that is so fleeting." Drakal held up a fist, exemplifying this power.

Her eyes were downcast now, as though she were actually mulling his words over rather than rigidly ignoring him. He thought she might be about to confess a want to do just that when her eyes stiffened once more. Her resolve had returned. He had been close for a moment there, and he knew he could get past her defenses again.

He stood from the table and walked past her to his personal locker. He forced it open and took out a prize he had long thought he'd never get to use. It was an old torture probe droid he'd gotten from his adventuring on Dromund Kaas; complete with needles full of serums and many other toys. He activated it and heard it hum to life as it lifted itself from his hand and floated in front of him. He pressed a few of the choices he thought would be particularly effective and let it loose.

Estela's eyes widened as she saw it float in front of her, and recognition flashed across her tired features.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you what this is Estela, so let's get down to business. I want you to tell me something. I killed your Jedi friend, what was his name?" Her features instantly turned to a snarl at the mention of the dead man, just as he'd hoped, and her anger quickly overpowered her forced calm.

"His name was Joei you _murderer!" _

It was almost a shout, but he let it slide, simply nodding like it was the perfect response.

"Joei, of course. When you saw me kill him, when I slowly pushed my saber inch by inch into his chest, what was the first thing that came to mind?" He had expected fury to explode from her, but instead her response was to let her head droop as a tear ran down her face. Her whisper almost escaped his hearing.

"I'm sorry Joei..."

He strode to her front and slapped her heavily, causing her head to jerk to one side.

"Of course you're not sorry! Joei should have been able to beat me, right? Is that not what the Jedi have always told you? That the light will always triumph over dark? Then why would they send you here if that weren't true? Because the Jedi _**LIE. **_Their only concern is that powerful men and women such as you remain under their thumb. You had the gall to question, you had the strength of will to see that they hid things from you. That's why they sent you here, to be rid of you. in the hopes that you would all die here."

Her anger at his slap was brief, and she shook her head in denial. He snorted in disgust, and motioned for the probe droid to carry on with it's assigned task. The Jedi looked to steel herself as the droid advanced on her, and the drug it injected into her arm would take effect soon. It gave the sensation of being on fire, but left no permanent damage, usually wearing off after about fifteen minutes.

"Think about what I said Estela, Once you open your eyes to the truth about the Jedi, you'll see I'm right. And you'll even thank me." Drakal turned and left her to the droids not-so-tender care, deciding it was time for breakfast and whistling a tune on his way to the dining area.

_Nothing works up an appetite like turning a Jedi._


	8. Walking The Line

Walking The Line

The Twi'Lek Jedi had remained in the lounge, under close observation by Ivix. Whatever tactics Drakal had employed were by no means subtle, and he was afraid of the damage it could do to his own charge to have a battered and bruised Estela as proof of Sith savagery. Dia stared at her feet for what seemed like hours, mulling over the discovery of her kidnapping and her current situation, including her blockage from the force due to the mass of Sith Holocrons on the ship, before speaking up.

"Could you check on Estela for me?" Ivix smiled gently as he stood.

"Very well, but remember my promise to you? I will not let him kill her." He walked towards the Holocron storage, keeping an eye on the Jedi, both literally and in the force. He entered to a horrid sight, Estela was badly bruised, bleeding and with multiple burn marks all over her body. She seemed to be in some kind of trance at the moment though, and Drakal himself was sitting at the table nearby with a snack in one hand and his feet propped up on a chair.

"By the force, what the hell happened here!? How can you commit barbarity of this magnitude?" He rushed forward to check on the grievously wounded Jedi.

"Oh please, I know what i'm doing Twi'Lek. She's not wounded in any real sense." The Sith made a motion with his hand as if waving away his concern.

"This could easily jeopardize my entire method, I've got Dia coming around to our way of thinking, on the promise that her friend would still live. I can't allow this." He began running his hand over the burns, diagnosing severity. "You've burned off five layers of skin here, the fact she's still even partially conscious is a miracle!" The bright red Sith just rolled his eyes and took a large bite of his snack, it appeared to be a fruit of some sort.

"Lookf, I already tofld you, I know whaff ium doin'." he swallowed, "She's going to walk away with only a few scars."

"Very well, but she stays alive. We are not monsters Drakal." He glared at the gluttonous Sith. "And at least give her some basic medical attention while she's out, she'll come around quicker to our line of thinking if she doesn't despise you." The man's snort of amusement was a rather sickening sound.

"Don't presume to tell me how to handle my prisoners. I don't recall meddling in _**your **_affairs. Now back off and let me work."

The Twi'lek's hands felt the tingle of electricity, but he quashed his desire to destroy the savage, he turned and walked away, headed back to the lounge. He sat in his regular spot on the couch across from Dia, and looked at his hands.

"She will live. The hate she will have for my associate will be an ailment for another time. Your friend is remarkably strong-willed." He added the last bit almost as an afterthought as he grabbed a drink from nearby. _This is spiraling out of control. _"Would you like a glass, Dia? Correllian brandy, best in the Galaxy,"

"Will you let me see her?" Dia looked up at him pleadingly. "I just want her to know things will be okay."

He looked at her sorrowfully.

"I'm afraid my Sith associate would see right through any contact you have with her. She must not give anything away, or else she will have no chance of survival, even I would be unable to stop him in time. So, though it pains me, I must refuse, in order to uphold my promise." He paced away to stand by the bar, and began coolly mixing a drink.

Dia breathed in and out deeply in a clear effort to stay calm.

"So," She twiddled her now unbound fingers. "What can I do to help you? What do you need me for?" The girl's question was unexpected to say the least, but he felt his face light up with excitement as he whirled around to answer.

"You have a remarkable gift, Dia. You were able to track the relic's movements through a force shield, it's presence was the size of a pinhead and yet you filtered it out from the white noise of the galaxy and found us. You are special, and the Jedi kept you locked away for so long." He stopped briefly to stir his drink and take a sip.  
"I seek relics of the ancients, long lost secrets of the force, Jedi and Sith, can you not feel the power of this place? This was the site of an ancient battle, one that left a wound in the force itself, and I would like you and your friend to join me, together we can recover the secrets of the Force from obscurity, and revel in the freedom that knowledge brings."

"Both of us?" She bit her lip. "How long until you can save her?"

"Our current objective is an ancient power locked within these wounds, I need him until he is no longer a factor, once that time appears, we can rescue your friend, maybe even before then if he bores of her. I swear to you, she will not remain under his torture, and she is strong, defiant, the makings of a powerful force user." He extended a hand. "Do you trust me?"

* * *

Her mind was nothing but darkness, pain and hatred. They coursed through her as one, and she was growing unable to distinguish one sensation from the other. Fatigue was at her heels, and the focus that had come so readily to her before now began to ebb. She hated this. She wasn't going to last much longer, she knew it deep in her heart, and hate was sprouting up out of her whether she summoned it or not.

It was that Sith's fault. He had been prodding at her inside and out. She felt exposed, gutted, defiled.

And she was beginning to hate him. In fact, images of cutting his throat out, of slipping a blade between his shoulders, a bomb in his abdomen... they were beginning to appear in her mind. She hated it, and she hated him, and she felt herself changing. If only there were a moment of peace. The times at the Jedi Enclave, being with Dia, being with Joei, seemed far off and just out of reach.

She felt her focus fail her everytime she saw that creature's face, and with that focus went her sense of peace. And when he smiled that sardonic, despicable, condescending smile, her insides burned for his death.

"So she wakes!" The wretched voice obliterated all attempts at recovery. "These bouts of unconsciousness are starting to worry me, Estela. I'd almost think you were losing your Jedi calm." His chipper mood belied a more sinister motive.

She scoffed at his false concern and she tried to turn her head away from him, but pain shot up her spine at the motion. So she settled for clenching her jaw defiantly.

"Yes, I can feel the hate there. You need but embrace it once, just once, and all this can stop." The Sith leaned in towards her from his chair nearby, his lopsided grin -one tendril snipped by Joei's blade- stood out in the light. She wanted to laugh at it, to mock him. But she closed her eyes and remembered the Jedi Code, whispering it inside her mind. But his voice, as he spoke, perforated her constructed ideals and she could not build it up fast enough. "You see what your core-scum Jedi friend did before I killed him? I'll keep it in mind every time I slay another Jedi, and many _will_ die by my hand."

It was a promise, and she felt a hateful need to stop him. The creature was evil. This creature deserved death, didn't it? If there was anything in this galaxy deserved it, it was this Sith, who had caused so much despair. "Come on, aren't you tired of being helpless? Of me thrashing you about while you just sit there? There's only one way out of this Estela, you just need to have the strength to take it. "

But that was what he wanted her to do, and she felt rebellion flare up in her. Whatever he did to her, she would not give in to his wants nor would she give in to a single one of his desires. This was the only power that remained hers, and she clutched at it desperately.

She heard the disfigured man snort as though in reaction to her newfound mindset.

"Had you half as much fervor for your precious order as you have for defying me, you might've won that fight in the jungle. As it is, you are worse than pathetic."

A chair creaked as the Sith stood. The pounding of his boots sounded as he crossed the floor. And an anticipatory silence came as he stood before her. She waited, battling with the hate.

He drew in a breath as if to speak and she braced herself for another mental assault. But when none came, she dared to open one eye to see what had stayed his fury. He was looking out of the door in an almost thoughtful way, the one that she'd seen Dia dragged out by, and the small smile on his scarred face slowly expanded as his eyes followed something just out of sight.

"Oh this is just perfect..." He quickly moved around behind her and lifted her by her restraints, causing her to yell in pain. Her body was still recovering from the previous incident. He unceremoniously let her drop to the deck, and Estela bit back a yell, but only just. She took a moment to let her eyes blink away the pain before her eyes came into focus on the room beyond the doorway.

Shock paralyzed her to the spot. Two blue Twi'Leks, now suddenly the picture of a family, lounged in the comfort of the ship's resting area. Hands grasping one another, the male twi'lek smiling contently. The female... no, Estela recognized her immediately even from behind. _Dia_ leaned in slowly, voice dropped in a conspiratorial whisper which just touched the borders of Estela's hearing in indistinct murmurs of sibilance.

Estela turned her face away, the pain of the emotion lost to her. Fury was stirring up in her heart, and no logical arrangement of thoughts was powerful enough to stop it.

_Dia is sitting out there, in comfort. She fraternizes with these Sith monsters. Has she already given in? So soon? _Estela's mind could find no other explanation. Dia had turned. Joei was dead. Her eyes snapped on to the figure beside her, the Sith.  
_**And it's all his fault.**_

* * *

Ivix held Dia's hand tenderly until his commlink went off, an important frequency that was rarely used. "Excuse me, Dia. I have to take this." Upon her reserved nod, he broke off the contact and walked to the bar in order to conduct his business in private.

A small hologram of a white-haired mandalorian woman sprung into view, clad in weathered beskar and glaring up at him with mismatched eyes; one pale and one glowing red from cybernetic enhancement.

"I've found your Jedi, Ivix. I need a bonus for the rush job with such little information." She had a rough, though womanly, voice.

Ivix smiled at the wonderful timing, "Your hurry is noted, Lian, and the agreed-upon settlement will be transferred along with your hefty bonus. Now, I need a name and a location, if you would?"

The woman crossed her arms, taking pride in her results, "His name's Quarek Yuud. He's your standard Jedi; stagnated at Knight level, no longer in the kidnapping business, but got put in charge of a dig on Dantooine. Seems the Jedi Order's trying to reclaim their old enclave. And the inhabitants ain't too keen on the idea, especially the Matales. You should be able to find him no problem, He's there, accompanied by a paltry military party, so as to not anger the locals."

"I thank you Lian, you've been most helpful, as always."

"Hey, they aren't the most exciting jobs, but at least your credits are good. Call on me anytime." She popped out of existence as Ivix turned to an inquisitive Dia.

"What do you say we pay a visit to the man that forced you down the Jedi path?"

"To what end?" She cocked her head, entirely curious and entirely naive. Ivix smiled, keeping the emotion gentle. This was like guiding a Mynock to a power cable.

"After what we saw in the Holocron, wouldn't you like to ask him, 'why?'"

She shook her head, looking at him in curiosity. "No, it hardly matters now, right? I am what I am. Leave the past in the past. Let's look forward to the future."

Ivix pursed his lips, and took a seat beside her, folding his hands across his lap. He stared at her with a serious look.  
"Dia, a big part of the future is dealing with the past. My grandparents were slaves, and I must face that every day. I look into the mirror and I see my grandfather, bound and shackled for his father's crimes. He fought his way into Sith-hood, but that stain still remains. If you don't face your history, you'll be forever faced with the question, 'What if?' What if you knew _why_ they stole you from your family? What if you have brothers, sisters, or even cousins in the order that they stole? You'll never know unless you ask."

Dia shot him an incredulous glare. "Is that really something to be concerned about right now? My friend is being assaulted in the other room, remember?"

Ivix drew in a breath to speak, but his expression turned sharp as he caught sight of the Sith, Drakal, sauntering in with a cocky grin plastered to his face. He strode his way into the room -Dia stiffened as she caught sight of him- and plopped himself down on the couch beside the two.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here." Ivix asked through clenched teeth.

"What? A guy can't stretch his legs?" Drakal did just that from his position on the couch before continuing. "And you must be Dia, I thought I sensed something special about you, and damn if you aren't just that. What is that power of yours called again?"

Rather than respond, Dia scooted closer to Ivix, an expression of discomfort clear on her features.

"Drakal. Leave her out of this. What you've done already is bad enough." his hand seemed to gravitate towards his saber.

"What? I just asked a simple question. Ah well, if she doesn't want to talk she doesn't want to talk. Anybody interested in a lunch? I thought I saw some nice meats in there last time I..." He trailed off when he saw both of them staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "Uh, ok. That's fine. I'll just go have a nap or something then. Pleasure to meet you, Dia." Without another moment's pause he got up and bowed before lazily walking back into the tiny room he called his own.

Ivix turned to Dia, a look of forced joviality on his face, "And hey, maybe he'll get eaten by a Kath Hound."

Dia smiled weakly at the comment, her eyes locked on the closed door the Sith had just left through.

"Are you angry?" Ivix asked quietly.

Dia shook her head. "I am concerned." She returned his uncomfortable look. "Will finding this Jedi speed up Estela's rescue? Your motives seem confused to me."

"What do you mean?"

She brought a hand to her lips, a motion he noted to be her pondering. "On one hand you offer me my friend's deliverance, but on the other you are pushing this... what seems to be an entirely different goal that has little to do with my friend's release. I cannot see how finding this Jedi will accomplish any of what is immediately important... Excuse my impertinence if there is no fault to be found in you, but I cannot help but ask you this; what is your goal in finding the Jedi that took me?"

"My dear, I simply wish to correct the error that has ruled your life, for you to learn the Jedi's true reason for stealing you from such a charmed life. It is simple philanthropy, no tricks, and it coincides with the goal that brought me, and by extension, you and Estela, to Dxun and Onderon."

"And I am willing to listen, and I have taken part in the holocrons you offer me... Is it that you do not trust me? Is that why you shield your goal from me? Or would me knowing ruin your plan somehow? I want to trust you."

"You can trust me. Follow your past, and I will show you why Drakal yet lives. Estela will be freed by the time we reach Dantooine."

* * *

Jaster Signas's hands still shook as he lay on the only plot of jungle he could find not covered in underbrush. He clutched them tight at his stomach, wishing his body portrayed his mental calm, a state that was not easy to attain.

Yes, he had run. When the Zakkeg had come, his team's blasters were ineffective; he had seen the squad's inevitable end. There was no way out but death. So, he had chosen survival, but no one had told him that this would be so lonely.

Of course, being alone was no problem for the Trooper Recon Scout. His skill lay in stealth and sabotage, and it was often he found himself doing missions on his lonesome, with naught but his rifle, explosives, and his stealth generator at his waist.

But, he came to the realization; this was an entirely different scenario. Doing the work of a Trooper gave him purpose, and carried with it none of the guilt. He had seen nearly half his team struck down before he fled, and he held no doubts about the state of the squad now. Yes, it was the fleeing that bothered him, and once he found the root of the emotion, he crushed it. He had fled for the good of the group, and he would ensure his escape would not be made in vain, and repay his comrades with blood.

His hands had stopped shaking, and he gripped his fingers into a fist. He pulled himself to his feet and made his way into the jungle.

A few hours later, he had located the _Skyarch_, just where they had left it. He approached the laoding bay doors and punched in the security code. The vehicle beeped and booped, and then groaned as it spat out the boarding gear. He glanced around for safety's sake one last time. And as he was about to slip into the ship, the faint and distant sound of boots hitting the dirt came to his ears.

He quickly moved into a covert position behind the ship's ramp, and readied his blaster. His keen eye scanned the foliage before him in a 180-degree turn.

A man burst from the bushes, and let out a whoop of joy at seeing the ship. The white and blue mud-stained armor stayed Jaster's trigger finger. He lowered his weapon and stepped out into the open. The soldier caught sight of Jaster and his movement halted, his stare turned incredulous.

"...Longshot? What the- how did you make it out? Nevermind." The man was Edson Renning, one of the more outspoken, and "gallant" (according to the women) men of the team. He was the heavy weapon specialist of the group, carrying their two handed assault cannon He breathed heavily as if he'd been running through the jungle before he'd gotten here. "Those Sith captured the Jedi, we gotta go back for em."

"Captured?" Jaster said. "How do you know that?"

"Damn man, didn't you watch? I stopped only a few hundred yards away and watched them fight, but the Sith did something to Dia, and knocked her out cold. The other two got overpowered and I watched them get dragged off, Joei got slaughtered. I can't say for certain but I think their ship isn't too far from ours."

Jaster pursed his lips. "It sounds like they're as good as dead to me. We should report back to Republic High Command and get off this planet."

Edson's face scrunched up in a frown as if he couldn't quite understand what he was hearing. "What? You wanna leave? They could be injured, or getting tortured! We can't just leave them. Do you think the Jedi would have left _**us**_ in enemy hands?"

"Uh, yeah. They do that all the time. It's the Jedi way."

"Look pal, I've had my bacon saved from the fire plenty of times by a Jedi, and I won't have you bad mouthin' them behind their backs. We have to save those girls, because no one else can."

Jaster crossed his arms. "So you think we can save them. Did you have a plan?"

The heavier man walked closer and sat down on the ramp, letting his eyes wander for a moment as he collected thoughts. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I might. We still have those explosives right?"

"I would assume so." Jaster said.

"Good. Ok," Thinking was clearly not a strong suit of Edson's, and the man rubbed his head as he tried to wrap his mind around this formulating idea. "We scout out their ship and wait for dark, then plant a few pounds of that on the underside of the ship. When we get in, we have to assume these guys sleep, so we stay quiet as we can and get the girls outta there. If it hits the fan, we blow the explosives and book it."  
The man sat a little straighter and his eyes took on a gleam like he could see the plan going off without a hitch.

"Let's see..." Jaster said slowly. "You plan to 'sneak' into a Sith's own ship, and flawlessly get by their superhuman sense. Then, you are going to get these two Jedi -who may already be dead, mind you- and sneak all the way back to this ship without them noticing. And if this... this idea fails, you plan to commit suicide? Am I following you correctly?"

When he stopped he saw the man giving him a dirty look, but instead of a retort he grabbed his assault cannon from the ground beside him and hefted it onto his back.

"Look, I'm going. If you got a better plan I'm all ears but i am _**not **_leaving those girls here. If you're not going to help, at least just wait a few hours. If I'm not back in three then you can take off."

"Hey!" Jaster said, grabbing Edson's arm. "Wait." He waited until the other man turned to give eye contact before continuing. "Our squad just died back there. Throwing your life away would be a dishonor to them."

Edson shrugged Jaster's hand from his shoulder and took a few steps back with a look of disgust.

"We don't leave people behind, I thought a soldier of the Republic would know that by now. You're just a damn coward." He spit on the ground at his feet and shouldered past Jaster, heading into the ship for his explosives. He returned without a word, lifting a pack full, and marched back out into the forest the way he'd come.

Jaster watched the man leave, trying to fight down that same guilt. The man was a fool, but his intentions were good. Jaster stared up at the ship, pondering his choices. When his feet moved again, he had come to a decision. He made his way to the piloting chair to familiarize himself with the machinery and get comfortable. He was in for a wait.


	9. Five's A Crowd

Five's A Crowd

Drakal sat on his bed in the small quarters afford to him by his _gracious majesty _Lord Ivix, and thought about how best to pass the time. His plaything of a Jedi was still undergoing the fine treatment of his torture droid at the moment, and was thus unavailable for entertainment. He had already raided the fridge and found the remains wanting.

_We're going to need a pit stop soon; this guy has barely any food to speak of on this ship. How he avoids withering away I'll never understand._

He looked around his room for his mask, and found it lying on the edge of his nightstand beside the bed. He reached across and snatched it, gently running a finger along its smooth curves as his mind wandered.  
_I wonder what Delia is doing these days? She always did make a big impression wherever she went; bet it wouldn't be hard to track her down._ He smiled as he thought about his old adventures, and about his far more entertaining companions than the ones he dealt with now. A grin spread further across his face as he remembered meeting the only person he'd ever thought of as an equal.

Delia was gorgeous, smart, and most importantly, she was enamored with violence. He saw again in his mind's eye how she had cut a swath through the tombs of Korriban with him. Her long dark hair reached down past her shoulders, and her pale skin looked smooth as silk as she cut down creatures and people alike. Her steely exterior hid her passionate interior, like velvet encased in a thin layer of iron.

Drakal sighed as his vision of his past faded from his mind, bringing him back to this less than ideal reality. He could hear the two Twi'leks talking outside his door, and he shook his head. He was no fool, he knew damn well what was going on there, and if Ivix thought to destroy Drakal through an unfair advantage then he could do the same to him.

Unfortunately, this Estela was a tough nut to crack. If his past experiences were any indication, she would take at least another week of attention before she broke, and that was being generous. He needed a way to even the odds against his fellow Sith, but with his rival acquiring Dia so quickly, the power was in Ivix's hands. He needed either Estela to join him sooner, or attain more power for himself; and neither option was readily available. A glower formed on his face as he grew more determined, he never had been one to give up.  
_But if I'm going to be betrayed, I'm taking him and everything he loves down with me._

* * *

Dia had fallen asleep on the couch as Ivix maintained his vigil, the apprentice-to-be had shown herself as rather inquisitive individual, asking many questions, trying to discover his mission. The conversation had continued long after Drakal had left, until exhaustion overtook her and she finally fell asleep on the luxurious couches. He stood up quietly and headed for Estela's room.

Following his Zakkeg's demise, he had taken control of several tachs and sent them into the jungle, in order to track down those last troopers he had failed to finish off when the Zakkeg was under his control. The animal's senses reported that three had succumbed to wounds, and another had been devoured by a wandering swarm of Cannoks. Yet two individuals remained, one seeping a hidden fright the lord could sense well before his minion had discovered him, and another one too stubborn and foolhardy to fear.

While he'd been conversing with his charge, the two troopers had begun speaking, and the simple animal's ears relayed every word back to the Twi'lek. Though the words sounded odd and muffled through the creature's mind, and he had to strain to make out each word. He gathered that they planned to rescue both Estela and Dia.

Ivix confirmed Dia's resting state. She would not awake for a while yet. With purpose, the Sith Lord crossed the room to stand before the Holocron storage door. He slid it open to see Estela's battered form slumped in the corner, bound hand and foot.

The Jedi's eyes snapped open when he roused her, and upon catching sight of him, he felt seething hatred roar through her. Drakal had done a number on her, and it seemed little was left beyond basic emotion. Confirming his thoughts, she lunged at him, snapping her teeth, but he pulled back his arm well before contact was established.

"A far cry from our battle in the jungle." His voice was soothed at a low whisper, intended as calming, but the fire in her eyes raged unabated. "You seem to be bordering the edges of insanity, and my concerns are indeed warranted." He offered her his best sympathetic look. "It seems such a loss that a creature of your caliber would be lost to it, and, in all honesty, I'd rather you survived this with some sense of what the Sith truly are."

"The Sith!_ Animals_!" Her voice was a ragged whisper, and the assortment of words came out between breaths.

"That's really quite funny, considering you just tried to bite me." Ivix said quietly. She didn't seem to see the humor, and bared her teeth at him again. "And, yes, I would justifiably compare my associate with an animal, but he is hardly a good representation of us Sith as a whole. Indeed, had I you in my care, your view of us would be entirely different. But at any rate, I see my words are confusing to you, so I will get to the point." Ivix stood, and her hateful glare followed the movement. "I will loosen your bonds, and I will give you an escape route, but this will come at a price."

She was listening, perhaps even comprehending, and this pleased Ivix.

"Soon, your friends will arrive, they will take you, and I shall take Dia to Dantooine. She is mine, and you will _not_ follow. If you are concerned, rest assured that she is in the hands of a Sith that set a Jedi free." _Or whatever's left of a Jedi in there._

A lengthy silence followed his statement, and Ivix took it as approval. He squatted on his heels beside her, and was about to unshackle her when she spoke.

"I will follow you to the end of the Galaxy if I have to. I will not abandon Dia to the Dark Side." Her voice came out in a croak.

He regarded the Jedi coldly. _Stubborn fool. _

Ivix dropped her bound hands and stood.

"Do what you will, Jedi. Know only that it will serve my ends should you do so. She is eternally with me." He sneered and walked out, a weakened Estela thrashing at her bonds behind him, the loosened stun-cuffs still not giving way. The door eased shut behind him and a smile cracked his lips.

Manipulation had always been his forte, and Estela's connection to Dia would accelerate her fall faster than torture ever could, and simultaneously cement Dia's. Seeing a childhood friend betray you was something that never failed. The pain-addled Estela would have no choice but to move herself according to his will, her wounds had healed enough that she could follow through on her promises.

* * *

The pitch black of night had fallen on Dxun. The life of the alien jungle awoke and the air was thick with their rising cacophony.

One Imperial Ship rested alone on one of the few empty clearings, which once had been battlefields. The feel of death was about, and it clung to all manner of creatures that traveled near it, and the sensation clung most deferentially on one soldier clad in white and blue.

Edson Renning shuddered amongst the underbrush on the jungle floor not a hundred yards from the Sith's ship, his mind racing and the pre-action anxiety making him jumpy. He had watched for any sign of a patrol or trap, but so far the area was quiet, almost eerily so. On his way here he'd trudged through miles of heavy jungle that was practically overrun with small creatures and hungry carnivores, but this place was dead.

He double-checked his heavy assault cannon for what had to be the umpteenth time and grabbed his bag of explosives, hefting it and slowly easing himself from the bushes without a sound. He slunk along the moonlit ground of the clearing, and dashed to the ship's underside. He quickly began slapping his charges into position, making sure that if things went wrong tonight, they'd go wrong in a big way.

After he placed the final stick of explosives to the ship's belly, he carefully unslung his cannon from his back and held it before him at the ready with both hands. It was a monster of a weapon, and he didn't relish fighting in the close quarters of the ship interior with it, but he had few options.

_Better than a knife, anyway. _He cracked a smile at his own sarcasm and moved as quietly as he could up the ramp and into the ship's dark interior. He started in terror for a moment of as red lights flickered on around him, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. Once his heartbeat died down a little, he methodically began searching the small freighter class vessel for the Jedi. He used old clear room tactics, and scanned each room thoroughly before slipping into the next.

He'd already found the ship's main room of course, and had just finished searching what appeared to be a lounge or kitchen area, and as he moved to the next froze in mid-step. A low snore could be heard from the next door, and he grinned to himself.

_And Jaster said it was impossible to sneak up on a Sith... the look on that coward's face when I get back with the girls will be-_

He pressed the button on a different door panel, the one that didn't have someone snoring in it, and gasped in spite of himself. There on the floor was one of the Jedi, but so badly beaten he had trouble telling at first.

"Estela?" He whispered. The Jedi rolled her head briefly as if trying to shake off some kind of mental haze.

"Wha-?"

"Be quiet!" He hissed. "Those Sith are still asleep and I'd like to keep it that way, now hold still." He slipped a vibroknife between her bonds and cut the stun-cuffs apart. Edson eyed the woman nervously; it didn't look like she was in any condition for mobility. But then her eyes, a steely grey, met his, and he was struck with the fire in them, the life coursing through her. Though her body was failing her, her spirit remained steadfast.

He cleared his throat. "So where's the other one? Uh, Dia, I mean."

Her eyes widened, and an intense fury shone through her face. His words seemed to mobilize her, and she rose to her feet slowly, painfully.

"Dia?" She whispered, voice hoarse, though from emotion or exertion he couldn't tell. "Dia's been turned." She met the soldier's eyes again. "Do you have a weapon for me?"

"Uh, not more than this vibroknife." No sooner had the words left his mouth that she snatched it from him, almost greedily.

"There's a blue Twi'lek Sith," She said. "He knows you're coming, he said... But I think... Sith's Blood!" She gripped her head, suddenly beset by a bout of dizziness. She steadied herself after a moment, hand still grasping her head. "That blasted Sith," She growled. "He did this to me... I can't think straight..."

A Jedi cursing. That was new.

"I'm going to get my saber from that rutting Sith." Estela shoved past Edson, heading towards the room from which snores could be heard. Estela held the vibroknife steady to her side, her intention clear.

Edson grabbed her before she opened the door. "Estela," His whisper was below his breath, and he spoke in direct proximity to the Jedi's ear. "We don't have time for this. We've got to get out of here."

She tried to shake him off, but she was too weak. Failing, she settled for a glare. "You leave. I need my saber."

_Maybe it's a Jedi thing..._ Edson thought, and from the fiercely stubborn look on her face he knew there was no way he was going to convince her. He released his grip.

She disappeared behind the door and Edson surveyed the room, readying his blaster cannon.

* * *

Estela made sure only the most minimal amount of light snuck through as she moved into the room. The Sith's room was dark, quiet, and his abominable snoring clogged the air.

She held the vibroknife tight to her hip. She stood over him; he lay resting in the bunk before her. Estela imagined slipping the blade into his heart, into his eye, across his neck. She imagined his screams, imagined running it down his arms, imagined slitting his stomach and spilling his guts out.

Oh, the need to do it was gripping her. Waves of murderous desire ran her down. She shivered, and her heart was glad with the desire.

Estela recalled once hating the sensation, but now a smile twisted on her lips. Death would come for this one, and she locked the picture of his face in her mind, silently promising his demise. He would not escape his fate, and she _would ensure_ her face was the last one he saw.

With no small amount of willpower she turned away from the Sith. Her eyes caught sight of a bag stuffed away in the corner. She lightly crossed the floor to it and snuck her hand inside, fingers scraping across her prize. Yes, it was here. Her beloved blade. She held it to her chest, glad to be reunited with it. This was the weapon that would fell the beast.

Dizziness beset her again, and she almost collapsed. Fatigue was stretching darkness across her vision. She needed to move.

She took to her feet, the snoring reassuring her of the rutting Sith's slumber. She left the room, closing the door behind her without a sound.

Estela nudged the trooper, who nodded and moved on ahead of her. The Jedi gripped her lightsaber tight in her hands before her, trying to keep from shaking.

She was so engrossed in walking that when the Trooper suddenly stopped she crashed right into him. It was a testament to his strength that he stood rigid as a wall. As Estela regained hold of herself, she caught sight of the Twi'lek Sith standing before them, calmly analyzing the two, a small smile playing across his face.

Estela was possessed by her freedom. She barely stopped herself from throwing herself at him, from thrusting her lightsaber into him. The chains of restraint were not easily put on again, and she felt her hand ignite her saber despite herself.

"Easy, girl." The trooper said, his back to her. And then he addressed the abomination. "So, you gonna let us go or what?"

"Why don't we have a little chat. After all, this _is_ _my_ home you've broken into." His mouth retained its predatory smile.

" 'Fraid I don't have time for that, sir." The soldier said. He lifted his weapon and opened fire.

The shots burst through the air, lighting the dark room in flashing bursts of red light. The massive laser was captured by the Sith's right hand, and they disappeared at the contact in a flash of light.

"Estela, RUN!" The soldier yelled, firing now above the Sith.

* * *

The ceiling-mounted holoprojector sheared away and fell down on the Sith's head. Estela didn't move, so the soldier roughly shoved her, and she stumbled away. Groaning, she forced her weary legs into a run, hoping she was headed towards the exit.

"Leaving so soon, Estela? But Dia was having such a wonderful time!" Ivix called out to her, and though he felt the answering anger emanate at his remark, her movement, rather than halting, instead sped up, as though her escape was reminded of its purpose. He cackled as he caught yet more of the soldier's blaster bolts in his hand as he held the holoprojector hovering above his head. The trooper finally stopped to reload and Ivix smiled. "Oh, good. My turn to return fire, is it? Very well."

Ivix's extended hand became a pointed finger as shrapnel tore from the damaged projector and rocketed towards the man.

The Trooper dropped to the ground, his body falling flat to the ship's floor as jagged shards of metal flew over his head. The miss was narrow, and the Trooper had dodged largely from instinct, as well as a generous amount of luck. It would not happen again.

"I always love when supplicants kneel. Now I will give you a choice. Die quickly, or resist."

The trooper's face was hidden behind the couch, and Ivix felt no fear. So the man was to be foolhardy then, "Oh I do love when you people resist. So much more sporting."

"Estela!" The man called out. No reply was given. At the silence, a bit of... trepidation snuck into the man's aura. As well as something akin to hesitation.

There was a rustle of movement, and Ivix suspected the man was about to surrender, or fire pointlessly again.

"What's going on-" Dia had come in from around the bend, but her question was cut off by the Trooper running into her. He shouldered past her, and she slammed onto the ship's wall.

Dia chased after him, asking him to wait. Ivix followed the them quietly, plotting to himself.

The Trooper had chosen his destination; the cargo hold. His surprise upon his arrival was humorous to Ivix; this ship was a rare model, and the engines and cargo hold were reversed in comparison to most mainstream ships. It seemed the man's plan to obliterate the vessel had fallen apart, Ivix noted with smugness.

"Where are you?" Dia was calling out. "Are you one of the soldiers that came with us? Answer me!"

"I believe he thinks you've already become one of the Sith, Dia." Ivix said, ensuring his voice projected across the Hold. "He must have made this assumption when he viewed your unbound hands and ease traversing the ship."

Dia nodded, sending him a grateful look. "It's not how it appears!" She hesitated. "Well, maybe it is, but not in the way that you think. These Sith, or, at least this one, isn't like the Jedi say! The Sith aren't what we think they are!"

The soldier's answer was a blaster bolt shooting out from his hiding place -the far left corner of the room. It came right at Dia, and Ivix cut it down a yard away from its impact. Dia sucked in a breath.

"Would you like to protect yourself?" Ivix asked her. She shook her head quickly. The pacifist tendencies of the Jedi still possessed her, he noted with disappointment.

But this was a good simulation. It should smack some reality into her.

"Let's talk!" Dia called out to him "I can explain myself, we can come to an understanding! With my help, you can get out of here alive!"

Resolve settled in the man's aura. Ivix steeled himself, and pushed Dia back. She fell against the ship as the soldier jumped out of hiding, his blaster cannon rolling shots at the pair. Ivix deflected the steady and heavy stream of bolts with his saber. A grenade jumped at him, and he threw it back with the force. The soldier jumped forward, in front of Ivix and Dia. In his left hand, a scarlet red trigger button.

_A bomb!_

The soldier's thumb pressed down on it, and a resounding click followed, and then, immediately after, an exuberant _boom_.

The floor ruptured as flames roared in, flooding and bathing the room in its inescapable heat. The flames ate up the soldier in front of them, and Ivix grabbed Dia, pulling her to him and shielding them both in the force. The ship shook violently, the floor was like the waves of an ocean, and both Dia and Ivix were sent sprawling across the cargo bay's outer wall. They impacted against the wall, ceiling and floor as the violent quaking continued. Ivix felt his hip smacked by a metal shard, and he gasped in pain. Dia gripped him tightly, her face buried in his chest. The shaking subsided after a time, and the pair was left to nurse their wounds.

Ivix glared at the burned husk that remained of the man, wishing he had been the one to do the man in.

"Why didn't he listen?" Dia moaned into Ivix's chest. "So pointless... Why didn't he listen!?"

Ivix stroked the back of her head soothingly. "The Jedi have filled their heads with lies, Dia. They have become calloused to truth and hostile when presented with a gentle resolution; even as they preach their values of peace and safety, they work against them. The Jedi's deception is widespread and keeps good men from good things. The lies must be unraveled before anyone can be willing to find the truth."

"So that's what it was... That's what we're missing," Dia murmured. "Truth."


	10. Without A Hitch

Without A Hitch

Twi'leks clutched one another along the left wall of the cargo bay. One in the brown robes of a Jedi and the other in the dark robes of a Sith.

Dia moved off of Ivix after a moment, coddling her head. The ship's quaking had left her dizzy, out of sorts, and stuck with a pounding headache.

The turbulence in her body matched the turbulence of her spirit. The trooper's choice -suicide?- was so beyond her mind's realm of possibility that she felt as though her very world had been cracked wide open. The man had been defiant, unwilling to listen, unwilling to even consider that something beyond his idea of how the world worked existed. He would rather have died than done so.

She glanced back at Ivix, the thoughts swirling about in her mind. Ivix had said truth was what was missing in the Republic, that the Jedi worked to suppress it. She hated the possibility that he could be right; she was loathe to blame the Jedi for anything. But even as the sentiment rose in her, she was struck with another. Perhaps it was the Jedi's own teachings that caused her to feel this way. Perhaps she was no different than that soldier.

And more than anything, she did not want to be like him.

Ivix groaned from beside her, his hand stuck to his hip.

Dia quickly came back to him. "You're hurt, aren't you?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Dia, my dear."

She nodded, still concerned. And then another thought struck her. "Estela's tied up in the storage hold! She could be hurt!" She turned to leave, but Ivix stopped her.

"No, no. I'm afraid I neglected to mention it. She's left. Escaped, and didn't spare a thought for you."

What? Gone? "How could she escape? That monster's in the other room. Couldn't he sense her?"

"And I wouldn't be surprised if he's chasing her as we speak." Ivix shook his head. "He'll hurt her, tear her apart. Perhaps even kill her." The Sith sighed. "I tried to convince her to stay, but she wouldn't listen. She would've been better off."

Dia stiffened. She couldn't imagine a world without Estela. She'd already lost Joei; losing Estela too would be a complete severing of all she considered dear in the Galaxy.

"I'm going to bring her back." Dia said, determination filling her voice.

"That would be best." Ivix said. "And you must not fail; her life hangs in the balance. Use whatever means necessary, as well. Her mind is still caught in the Jedi hostility, and she may be too far gone to hear reason." He handed her a saber, the hilt a sleek black.

Dia took it gratefully. It felt good to hold a weapon again, but she doubted she would need to use it.

* * *

Ivix watched her leave, he wasn't sure what to call her anymore. No longer was she a Jedi, but nor was she a sith. She stood in the divide between the two philosophies now, unsure. She would need his guidance as time went on, and how she dealt with Estela would determine her future in the Sith order. Ivix had a preferred outcome, of course, but her destiny was her own, as it was with his, and even the Barbarian.

He clutched his side and tapped commands into his wrist-mounted computer, summoning the _Smile_'s veritable army of astromechs to repair the holes left by the trooper's suicide. The small tripodal droids swarmed all over the cargo hold, cutting new bulkhead slabs and welding them into place, coordinating with long series of multi tonal beeps and simple comm frequencies. Soon the damage wouldn't be visible unless one looked for it, even the exterior's blast scoring could be repaired by the resourceful droids.

Ivix oversaw the repairs, calling out to individual droids when a more efficient repair was possible. Ivix had a slight limp after the explosion, where his shield, unable to protect them both fully, had broken, exposing him to shrapnel. His injury pained him, and fatigue began to cloud him before he moved to the nearby Med-bay, dressing his wounds with kolto. It wasn't until he was finished that he pondered the possible outcomes of the imminent clash between old friends.

_Well it should be interesting, to say the least._

He sensed Drakal's presence on the ship still, but it was... calm. Subdued, he was not active. The pureblood Sith was likely unconscious, or passed out drunk. Ivix smiled at the revelation, the next stage of the plan would be so much easier.

* * *

Dia cut through the jungle, the force guiding her steps. The connection she had was weak, and flitting in and out like a bad radio signal. She felt rusty, and out of practice, and her mind felt clouded; focus wasn't coming to her as easily as only a few days before.

Her connection to the force was returning, slowly, but it was returning to a body and mind that were no longer the same. Dia's eyes felt opened, and the force was interacting with her differently than before. It was a difference she couldn't quite put her finger on, and her thoughts were far too consumed with her friend's safety to bother with it.

She caught scent of Estela's aura, but that too was odd and fluctuating both with darkness and light, an unstable sensation. Dia sent her friend a mind-link, but without Estela sending one back, the connection was unable to stabilize, and faded within moments. But Dia was gaining on her target, and after breaking through one last thicket of leaves and bugs, she caught sight of her.

Estela's back was to her, the hilt of her saber held in her right hand, the soft glow of Onderon and its other moons glinting off the hilt. Her body was cut in black, the light casting darkness over her.

Her head turned first, and then her body. Dia was struck by the fierceness in her friend's eyes. Such a stare had never been directed at her before. Only at the enemy.

Dia cleared her head, shaking it. This was her friend before her, someone she had known since before she could speak. Grasping onto that confidence, she started walking forward. "Essa," She said quietly. The nickname reminded Dia of the bond they shared. "Essa, we should talk. You aren't going to like what I say, but it needs to be said."

Estela was just staring stoically, her expression not forthcoming. It reminded Dia of statues held up in the rural areas of Typhon, the ones representing justice and judgement.

Dia swallowed. "You need to come back to the ship with me. Drakal will kill you otherwise. Essa-"

"Don't you dare utter that name, Sith." Emotions rushed over Dia from the Jedi before her. Anger fierce, fiery, and hateful so potent it overwhelmed Dia, sending terror crawling up the Twi'lek's spine. Estela's lightsaber ignited, the yellow blade humming into existence.

"I'm not a Sith! Not by any means!" Dia said.

But Estela was walking briskly towards her, and fear of the woman's dark energy sent Dia into a panic. She ignited the saber Ivix had given her, purely in self-defense.

Scarlet red, the color of blood, lit up Dia's face as the saber sprung to life. Estela's eyes widened, and her fury reached its height. The woman's face broke into a snarl.

"Even your blade reveals you!" Estela swung her blade down, and Dia caught it with her own, even as the impact sent the Twi'lek down to one knee.

"Surrender, Dia! Return to the light!" Estela snarled. Anger emanated from the woman in waves. Dia's hands shook from fear. Estela pressed down, and Dia felt herself being pushed back, the power in Estela's arms too much for her. "Or I will cut you down like any other Sith in this cursed Galaxy!"

Dia choked back a gasp. Panic was mixing with a heavy wave of despair. The emotions were fierce and overpowering, and Dia fought them back with little success, trying to focus. Her friend was willing to kill her. No, she was actively _**trying t**_o kill her. Dia cried out and used a burst of force to blow them both back, sending both women sprawling into foliage.

Dia pushed herself to her feet, spitting out leaves and dirt. Estela was groaning somewhere ahead of her. It seemed she still hadn't recovered. Dia sucked in a breath, trying to regain some semblance of calm. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she stood.

She had to analyze the situation. She had to bring Estela back to the ship. Estela _had_ to survive this.

"Will you not listen, Essa?" Dia asked.

"_Don't __**call **__me that!_" Estela's fierce voice came from beyond her, muffled by leaves. There was a rustling and Dia saw the Jedi move to her feet, pained thought he motion was.

Dia's eyes ran over her friend's bruises, cuts, and blackened areas. On her neck the skin was peeled and blistered, and her right hand's nails were chipped and cracked -she had been clawing desperately at something. Dried blood clung in clumps to Estela's mouth, and purple and black swelled across the side of her face, on her thighs, on her shoulder.

"Why won't you talk to me, Essa?" Dia asked quietly, the words a breath. "Why did you leave without me?"

"Because you're a filthy _Sith!_"

The words seemed to strengthen Estela, and the Jedi's lightsaber flitted through the air, her body moving with it in a fluid motion. Even injured and fatigued, the Jedi's ability was present. Dia wouldn't stand a chance; strong-arming this fight would by no means succeed. And the sight of such hatred from Estela directed at her still sent a shock through Dia, and it was shaking her to her very core.

Her hands were shaking as she lifted the blood-red saber. Estela was coming at her again, form steady and intention clear as she struck at Dia's center. The attempt was an obvious one, and Dia was able to turn it aside with her saber. But Estela immediately twisted with the motion, and slipped her blade past Dia's guard, and was about to pierce the Twi'lek's heart, but at the last moment the blade ceased its movement.

"Estela!" A voice drew both of their attentions to the edge of the clearing. A man in filthy white armor stood among the trees with a rifle at the ready, the confusion plain on his face.

Dia whipped her head back to the Jedi to find Estela staring dumbly at the Trooper. Dia bit her lip in anticipation. Now was probably her only chance.

She stepped forward with her left and thrust her hand in to grab at Estela's lightsaber hilt. The idea was to wrench the blade from Estela and then force Estela into a paralytic mind-link, but Estela recovered too quickly. Her strength returned to her, and she pulled back from Dia. Grabbing Dia's arm so she couldn't escape, Estela smashed the hilt of her blade into the side of Dia's head.

Dia crashed to the ground, her senses lost. Her head felt like it was spinning. She couldn't move her legs and the dirt seemed like seawater. It was the same disconcerting sensation she had when the ship was tossing her around like a ragdoll.

Dia closed her eyes tight. She put her arms to the ground, shaking, and pushed herself up. She heard footsteps. Estela was moving away from her. But Dia couldn't let her go. She forced herself to her feet, slipped twice, and managed to get to a standing position. Dia cracked her eyes open, catching sight of a shadowy figure moving away from her. She stumbled towards it.

Her senses returned to her as she moved. She saw Estela following the Trooper deeper into the forest about a hundred yards ahead of her. Dia forced herself into a kind of run, calling out to Estela, waving her arms above her head.

Estela stopped to look back, once, and continued the rest of the way unhindered by hesitation. The forest soon broke into a clearing, the ship grounded in the middle of it. Estela and the Trooper disappeared inside and the boarding ramp was sucked in behind them.

The roar of the engine, the heat of exhaust, and the ship was unapproachable.

Dia watched the ship take off into the dark starry sky and fell to her knees. Bitter tears streamed down her face. Her friend had left her alone on the jungle planet. She wailed out in panic, in despair, and in the sudden and forced knowledge that the Jedi had deceived her.

There is no peace; peace is a lie.

* * *

The entire conflict played out in Ivix's mind's eye, his Tachs had followed the action every step of the way. Estela's escape was foreseen, but her desire to kill Dia was unexpected, even with the 'proof' of a crimson saber.

He moved to a hidden compartment in the lounge and retrieved two items, one hidden from Drakal, the other a gift from an Imperial Intelligence agent. Both would be essential if his plans for Dantooine were to succeed.

* * *

Hey there friends! Just letting you know that the Jedi are being written by a new collaborator! We now have three of us working on this grand adventure, and our newest addition has been a tremendous help. Thanks a ton Revan!


	11. A New Leaf

A New Leaf

"_Peace is a lie, there is only passion."_

Ivix paced the room as Dia sat in meditative form. Her aura reacted to his words, and he saw her believing them, the taste of her force changing as he spoke.

"_Through passion, I gain strength."_

"_Through strength, I gain power."_

"_Through power, I gain victory."_

He paused as her back straightened, saw as the words began to flow over her. She was an empty shell now, a formless putty, his to shape.

"_Through victory, my chains are broken."_

She sucked in a breath and raised her head. There was nothing in her, nothing but what he put in her. He had broken her connection to the past, her preconceived beliefs. He was the only one she could trust now, and victory was just within his grasp.

"_The Force shall free me."_

The last words of the Sith code passed his lips, and a smile broke out on Dia's. Ivix recognized the look. Though the ex-Jedi did not entirely understand the depth of the Sith code, the promise it inherently held filled her with giddy anticipation.

Ivix would not disappoint.

He sat down before her in the meditation pose and took her right hand in his. Her closed eyes flickered at the contact, but it was not long before she relaxed.

He expanded his Aura, invoking the vigor that rested deep inside him. He bathed her in the power of the Dark side and felt the shivers run down her spine.

"This is the power every Sith feels; the overarching knowledge of the universe and the power to bend it to our wills. This power is the freedom of the Sith." Ivix's voice boomed in the small quarters, his power making him godlike. "And it is true power. It is more than what I show to you now. And, as I guide you and lead you to the truth of your abilities,_ the truth that the Jedi hid from you_, you will taste of it. Each Sith carves out his place in the universe, each with his own code, and each by his own merit."

As his words, both in the force and out of it, passed into her, her aura reacted. It exploded, the excitement running over Dia. She was absorbing his words like a sponge. And she anticipated more. The picture he painted was one that, though she had not been aware of it, she had been tempted to attain ever since first coming into knowledge of the Force. The Dark side ever calls to the Force user, and she was at long last willing to hear its voice.

His power flowed into her, like a mighty ocean flowing into a river, overloading her senses. Their auras danced around each other, pulling her into another world, filled with sensations she had never felt before. Ivix's memories of conquest, of victory, of treasures won by way of the Force formed emotions and passions that he sent into her, and she experienced them all.

He materialized before her, arm extended. And this time she took it without hesitation. He pulled her through the Force, exposing her to a lifetime's worth of accumulated power and pleasure, the true inheritance of a Sith.

He watched her eyes, and saw her think back on her life with a disillusioned mind. She saw how the Jedi had used her, and how uselessly. The 'compassion' she had shown for others had done nothing but turn them away from finding truth. It had been a mere dampener, a weak and useless attempt to keep them from harm. What was the root of the problem? The root of the problem was that they were weak and could not become strong.

The Jedi had kept her from finding strength, from freedom. And from victory. They had put her in chains.

And Dia turned to stare wonderingly at Ivix.

And now her chains were broken.

With that, it clicked.

_What good does it do to help others? They throw it back in your face, and then they find more trouble to fall into. The only person worth helping is myself. There is so much in this Galaxy to be had, and if I have __**power**__, I can learn all that I am capable of, all that the Jedi have kept me from. With that power, I can expose the truth, and I will never experience loss like that again. The Dark side offers me all this and more. What a gift, what a gift... I have been so blind!_

Ivix smiled in approval.

Life was for the living, and Dia'Vei had just been reborn.

* * *

Dia's face was serene in slumber.

Ivix was quite proud of her. She had done much this day, and come far. She was a quick learner, a good student, and he was looking forward to seeing her potential in the dark side.

He stared down at her with pursed lips.

She had returned to the ship with tear-stained cheeks. There was an agitation on her face that was quite unused to being there. And, upon his hand on her shoulder, she had collapsed onto him, and sobbed into him for quite a while -there was even a stain there now.

She was also quite drained, both emotionally and physically, which was to be expected. Her entire world had been thrown upside-down and inside-out. But she was eager to learn. Once she had wiped her tears away, she had in her the spark of wanting to learn more of what Ivix stood for, and he had been all too happy to teach her.

He patted her head like a proud father, and limped his way out of the sleeping quarters.

The lounge was black with darkness when he entered. He fumbled for the light, and flicked it on.

The blood-red Sith sat on the couch in the middle of the room, sipping a glass of likewise colored red wine.

"So, what did you do with my Jedi?" Yellow eyes sparkled with a hint of accusation.

"I had nothing to do with her escape. Was it not you that was in charge of breaking her will?" Ivix made a show of limping to the bar. He reached into it, pulling out an assortment of liquids.

"Nothing to do with it?" The Sith craned his head speculatively. "It sure seemed to work out well enough for you! You think I don't notice that I'm the only one worse off here?! Gah-" He cut himself off, holding his head.

Ivix noted the off-coloring near the left side of the Sith's forehead. A narrow red and swollen line ran horizontally along the left side of his head. The corner of some object had impacted the temple of the Sith. The barbarian was no doubt concussed. That explained why he had not come out sooner; the explosion must have caused the impact. Ivix cooly began shaking green and blue alcoholic beverages together.

"It is a fortunate turn of coincidence, nothing more." Ivix said calmly. "There is no need for dramatics."

"Quiet." Drakal growled. "Do you think me blind?"

"But I am seeking your best interests." Ivix poured himself the mixture and hobbled over to sit on the couch across from Drakal. "It was my fault that the human Jedi escaped, and I must give you my apologies regarding that." He made sure eye-contact was held between himself and Drakal, pouring sincerity into his words. "I failed. I wasn't expecting the trooper to be so well-equipped. I was also careless. The trooper could have blasted that hole right through our engine. As it stands, I am fortunate that it is just the cargo hold that was damaged." Ivix sipped at his drink, awaiting a response.

Drakal levelled at him a withering glare, his yellow eyes, surrounded by red veins, fixed on Ivix accusingly.

"I assure you, I will make it an endeavor of utmost priority to return to you the Jedi you lost. But this I can do only after my promise to Dia is fulfilled." Ivix leaned forward. "How do you feel about a trip to Dantooine?"

"Don't patronize me." Drakal hissed. "If that precious little box of yours hadn't decided it needed me, you would try and kill me right now, wouldn't you?"

"I'm sure you wouldn't hesitate to rid yourself of me either. But as it is, we are stuck with one another, aren't we?"

Drakal's lipped twitched upwards to bare one long jagged tooth as he attempted to contain his anger; and both his bloodshot eyes closed.

"Hmph." Ivix stood. "I see that you are unwilling to cooperate by any means. Know that it matters not. I control this ship. Stay close to your quarters and away from Dia, and I will do my best to make sure you are comfortable. To the degree that I deem fit, of course." Ivix stared down at the injured Sith. Shaking his head in disgust, the Twi'lek left the room.

* * *

The _Skyarch_ hovered in Dxun's atmosphere, circling the small moon-planet while in reach of the dark coldness of space.

The ship was in a neutral state; only life support and the gravity core were active in order to reserve fuel for a later journey.

Apparently Estela had something in mind.

Jaster wasn't looking forward to finding out what it was, but hoped she planned to return to the Jedi council, or had some secret rendezvous to complete. One that would get Jaster as far away from Sith as one could reasonably be in the current state of the galaxy.

_Expect the worst, and hope for the best, isn't that how the saying goes?_

Jaster sank into the pilot chair, his mood sufficiently soured. The bitter taste of caf flooded his mouth as he sipped from a tall white cup.

_Jedi are such a handful_.

Bringing Estela into the ship had been no easy task; the fool Jedi constantly lost her balance and fell all over him, throwing him to the ground on multiple occasions, Jaster was no body-builder, and he was comfortable with that fact, as long as he wasn't reminded of it. Injuries riddled her body, and her exhaustion, evident from her sunken cheeks and bags under her eyes, had rid her of the Jedi's renowned patience and restraint. She had snarled and growled at his every attempt to make her more comfortable, which, admittedly, wasn't more than once.

And, upon reaching the ship, she'd rushed to the pilot chair and hit the autopilot for emergency liftoff. she had collapsed into a crying heap on Jaster's very own seat shortly after.

He spent hours cleaning that. Slobber, tears, and snot. Not pretty.

He had gone to her with the appearance of trying to help her, though in all honesty, he'd just wanted her out of his seat. She had screamed ferally at him to leave her be. He refused, feigning heroics. Then she had taken to him by claw.

Jaster rubbed the cut on the side of his face vigorously. It still stung.

He had taken the hint; he left her alone. It really wasn't worth dealing with; what sort of emotional woman becomes a Jedi anyway? Seemed like a mess waiting to happen. She eventually got out of his chair anyway, and locked herself in the sleeping area, and hadn't made a peep since, which suited him quite nicely.

He stared out the window at the blackness of space, and Dxun. The jungle moon was a beautiful sight from orbit; the sun's rays played off the greenery, making it a picturesque sight. He sighed contentedly, sipping again the bitter taste of coffee. This was followed closely by a coughing fit as he caught sight of the Sith ship taking off.

He strapped himself in and clicked down switches above his head, and the spaceship wrenched into reverse, picking up speed. He fired up the ship's stealth shields, hoping the Sith hadn't seen them already. He held his breath, observing the large black vessel as it hovered above the planet's surface.

The clang of a door rang, and the brisk sound of footsteps. Estela was up. She marched up to him, calling out, "What happened?!"

He almost told her to shove off, but a look at the irritation on her face made him bite his tongue. He motioned her over with a wave.

"Sith are on the move. I'm staying covert."

"Good. Get in position to follow." Estela commanded.

He gave her an incredulous stare. "Follow?! Are you out of your mind?"

"No, Dia's on that ship. We have to get her back!"

"Ten seconds ago you were ready to kill her!" He groaned. "She can't be that important to you! Let's just go to the council and call it a day!" This conversation was grossly reminiscent of the one he'd had with Edson.

_Speaking of, whatever happened to the guy? Oh well, idiot took too long, anyway. _

A look like pain flashed across Estela's face at those words. Jaster bit his lip and looked away.

"Dia is important." Estela said in a strained voice. "Follow them or I'll kill you here and now."

"Yeah? You gonna pilot this ship?" Jaster shot back.

Her eyes widened in a fierce and sudden anger, teeth baring. "Do what I say!" She yelled. He felt some spit dribbles splash against his face.

_Agh, that's just..._

"Some Jedi you turned out to be." He wiped the slobber from his cheek, sufficiently grossed out. "Maybe you should brush your teeth, take a shower, and then we can talk after you've taken care of all that."

She made a move as if to strangle him, stopped halfway, and stormed from the room.

_This is going to be a long flight._

The Sith ship took off, blasting light as it hit hyper-speed and disappeared into the blackness of outer space.

Jaster gulped down another mouthful of coffee and punched in the coordinates for Typhon.


	12. Grudges, Splints And Reinforcements

Grudges, Splints, And Reinforcements

Estela wasn't happy, and Jaster could tell.

The fierce frown on her face gave her away. Thin, arched brows were drawn to a furrow at the center, eyelids were narrowed in distaste, and the curved edges of her thin lips turned downwards. She hadn't touched her food. It seemed that glaring at Jaster made for a much more nutritious meal. Yes, she was no happy camper, but he didn't really care.

Surviving was much more important.

It seemed she didn't quite understand. Her stubbornness to 'save' Dia, the twi'lek she only recently had tried to kill, was irrational. Dia chose the Sith and, from what Jaster gathered, that was her choice. It may have even been the wisest one. Heck, he would've joined them in a heartbeat if it meant he could live.

_Because when you're dead, there's nothing you'll be able to change. Grip to life, and you can figure everything else later. _

_How are you going to save Dia when you're dead, anyway_? He wanted to say to her. But she just stared at him sullenly and he didn't figure it would make much difference.

But he was getting sick of being stared at like that, as though he were some pestilence she would have been better off without. He liked to be invisible, to mold himself into the wall and be glanced over. _That _he was comfortable with. That was what he had done while the other soldiers had their drinking parties and their escapades. Curling up in the sleeping quarters with a holo-record or two, and sip some Caf while staring out at the stars. He was comfortable with that, with being ignored, and unnoticed. But her attention set him on his toes and he wanted it directed elsewhere. He wanted to be forgotten.

And, wriggling in the back of his mind, there was a second reason for his discomfort. She was so blind to herself, her pride a flaring beacon. He wanted it gone. He wanted to prove to her that he was in the right, and that she, lofty Jedi that she was, was no better than him.

"So what happened to Edson?" He asked.

Irritation flashed across her features. "Who is Edson?"

He sipped his Caf. "He was a trooper here, had blue and white armor, came to rescue you despite the common sense in running. Ring a bell?"

And she paled. Her eyes dropped down to her plate. Her voice came out a breath. "Edson..." She whispered. "Did you know him well?"

"Not so much. I know he was the life of the party, had two loving parents that funded his every endeavor. Seemed to have a good reputation."

Each word made her look more and more uncomfortable. She appeared almost nauseous now.

"So, I'm guessing from that expression that you just left him to die and ran off to save your own skin." Jaster leaned back contentedly. "See, that's not so differen-"

"He told me to go!" She said loudly. "The Twi'lek Sith was there. I was in no condition to fight! I would just get in the way!" Her hands were shaking, and she turned them to fists as her eyes clenched closed. "And he told me to run..."

"And because you listened, you're still alive." Jaster said. "See? You made the right choice, got out intact. That's what matters."

"How can you say that?" She gave him a look so astonished he sucked in a breath. "He was your comrade."

He covered his face with a hand, breaking eye contact. _Don't look at me_. "It was his choice to sacrifice himself," He muttered. "Staying alive is always the best option. Once you're dead, it's over."

"It is never over. You join with the force, but only if you do not act against it. You can become one with it and understand all things, your consciousness will meld with... it." Estela said, but her voice halted at the end. She shook her head, and glared at him again. He matched the look, frowning right back at her.

He noticed then the cuts that were still on her arms and cheeks the bruise that still colored her face.

"Why haven't you healed yourself?"

She flinched, and glanced to the left. "It is no concern of yours."

"Can you not use the force?" _What a useless Jedi. I'd have been better off with Edson._

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. "I can use it."

"Then why don't you? You'd be utterly useless without it. Not that you aren't even with it."

Her eyes shone with moisture, and he fumbled at the sight. But that expression soon turned to a fierce glare, and his drink swirled in its cup. It exploded and rushed up to his face, the scalding liquid inflicting pain. Jaster fell backwards in his chair, yelling out.

"Useless?" She stood over the drenched trooper. "_You_ would call _me_ useless?! What do you know?" She was shouting, anger and fear mixing. "Coward! You only care about yourself! As long as you stay alive, everything will be all right? Well, what good is that? You live and everyone around you dies?! What will your life matter in the end? What does your life matter now?"

"What, so because I'm not as great as some Jedi, I'm unimportant and should die with the rest of them?" Jaster propped himself up. "I'm not falling for that. You'd kill me without a second thought if you didn't need me. What would it matter to you if I died now?"

"That kind of logic..." Estela was looking at him with distaste. "You are only concerned with yourself. You will have no purpose to your life. You will be drifting forever, useless and harmful to everyone you come into contact with."

"I have a purpose." Jaster declared. "Staying _alive_. And it's been a lot more successful than your 'Galactic Peace' or whatever you Jedi strive after."

"Merely staying alive is meaningless."

"Who needs meaning?"

"You cannot possibly believe you will be happy like that." She was looking at him with pity now.

_What's with that look? _If anything, she should be feeling sorry for herself, not for him. He had all he wanted; she was the one chasing after air, dreaming of the impossible. "_You_ can't possibly believe you'll be happy as a Jedi. All constraints and 'don't do this' and 'don't do that'. I've heard it all before. Sounds a lot more miserable than what I've got going for me."

The words left his mouth and he felt himself being lifted through the air by the throat, a gagging noise escaping from his mouth. Her eyes were wide with a look not unlike hatred.

Then she seemed to get a hold of herself, eyes flickering and blinking rapidly. He was dropped to crumple and cough on the ground, rubbing his sore throat. He tossed her a look of resentment, but she was covering her face with a hand as though beset by a headache.

Jaster was considering making a run for it when she spoke, "Sorry." He didn't recognize the look on her face, but it seemed like a mix of anxious and begrudging. "You sounded just like him... I lost control. Please, forgive me." The last part rang of sincerity, and it, oddly, touched him. He had to look away.

"Uh.. Yeah," That was twice now she had lashed out at him, and once that his life had been in danger. That was more than enough. It wouldn't be wise to interact with her again. But, curiosity was burning in him. "Who is 'him'?" And he had asked before he could stop himself.

She answered in a strange, strained voice. She stared down at her hands. "The Sith. The one that tortured me. I can still hear his voice in my ears... The pain of his touch... The power emanating from him... How badly I wanted to kill him..." Estela was covering her head, bent over. "He toyed with my emotions... Made me feel things I didn't know I was capable of feeling, I... I _hate him_." The words were said with seething resolve.

She was so different from before. Jaster wondered why it had taken him so long to notice. A wildness was in her eyes, the kind he had seen in veterans, lone survivors that carried themselves back from a war. They were like corpses, driven only by a single purpose until they burned out.

"Is that why you can't heal yourself? Because of what he did to you?" He asked.

"That's why I _won't_ heal myself." She said, head raising. "I will never forget what he did to me… or what he did to Joei." She halted suddenly, and then gave him an irritated look. "I wish there was someone else to talk about this with. Anyone other than you."

"You've got the wall and the toilet. Take your pick." He stood, sighing. "Besides, we'll be with the Jedi soon enough... We should land on Typhon tomorrow."

"No, we won't." Estela said. She took a step towards him as he took one back. "You'd better change those coordinates."

"We've been over this already, Jedi." Jaster said. "_I'm_ the pilot here. You're the idiot chasing after a fool's death. I've got the ability to move the ship, and there's no way you can stop me."

"Yes, I was thinking about that. And you've revealed yourself well-enough in this situation." She stepped towards him, no, she sped across the room in a flash. He barely had time to twitch and she was standing right in front of him.

"You, who care only about yourself, would seek the safest path, the path of comfort, to get to where you desire. So the moment there's any amount of pain," She suddenly grabbed his arm and twisted it around his back with a strength that came not from her stature. He cried out. "You crumble."

"Some... Jedi... you've turned out to be!" He gasped out.

"The Jedi bring good to this world." She pushed his arm up farther, drawing another yell. "You are trying to hinder it. Now change the coordinates or I rip off your arm!"

"Go ahead!" He said. "I'd sooner die than help you!"

"You think I believe that?"

"You think I believe you'd really kill me?"

"No, but you can believe I'll rip off a finger at least. Then the arm."

"Come off it, Jedi!"

There was a snapping noise as her other hand pulled his pinkie from its socket. Jaster saw white as pain surged up his arm. He gasped. The Jedi really was serious. Maybe she wasn't even a Jedi at all. She smacked his head, and he stayed conscious, cradling his injured hand.

"Now change the coordinates." She commanded.

The pain was too much, and overtook his stubborn pride. He obeyed, compliant. But he hated it. Pride was the only thing he had, the only thing he had yet to toss to the wind with the rest of his dignity. But in the face of the power of a Jedi, he had to buckle, no matter how much he didn't want to.

* * *

Two days later, Estela meditated in her chambers, head turned upward and hands stretched to touch her knees.

She felt anger within herself, a clear and distinct trait of the Dark Side that had taken up residence in her spirit. Before meeting the Sith, she had thought darkness was in her, but now she saw it cultivated, grown and rooted. And, try as she might, she could not be rid of it. The hatred for the Sith was too strong, too easy. It had the ability to possess her, despite her best efforts. It was as though the rutting Sith had stuck a portion of himself in her, a blade edging into her heart, constantly needling at her and a hindrance to her focus.

The Light Side concentration techniques weren't working anymore. Each time she tried to delve into them, rather than achieving focus, she would remember the pain of his hand smacking against her face, and the scalding burn of a lightsaber blade against her neck. Worse still, when she fought it, the sensations brought on by the torture droid would overtake her mind like a vision.

It was as though she had been poisoned inside and it was causing a slow death of who she once was. It was trying to transform her into something she did not want to be. Worse still, Estela wasn't sure she could even win against it. It was as though her loyalty to the light was a ticking time bomb that, as soon as it exploded, would sever her from what she wanted most. It would destroy her.

Meditation wasn't pleasant, and she was quickly done with it, little focus achieved. She was sure to do terribly in battle, but she was much more active than she had been when she escaped. While these few days of rest had revitalized her body, the same could not be said of her spirit.

The memory of Dia's face, looking so lost and betrayed was stark and clear. Whatever happened thereafter would be entirely Estela's fault. And she had no doubt that the Twi'lek Sith had orchestrated it all. His coming to meet her in the holocron room before her escape was far too suspicious. Estela had to know if she could rectify her mistake in any way... if there was any way to bring Dia back... Estela had to at least try. She owed her friend that much and more.

Estela made her way to the piloting deck, where the Trooper controlled the _Skyarch_. Dantooine was in sight, and in only a half-hour they would touch down, according to the Trooper.

Estela stared at the back of his blonde head as he gulped down more of the brown drink he seemed so fond of.

_So what happened to Edson?_ His voice rang in her mind.

Estela tensed. She hadn't even known the soldier's name. And she had felt the explosion as she was running into the jungle. The trooper had given her life for her, and she barely even knew him.

"What's your name?" She asked. It wouldn't rectify her callousness regarding Edson, but that experience made her resolve to treat those around her better, no matter the rank or belief. And no matter how unlikable they were.

Jaster shot her a glare of resentment, which was no surprise. She hadn't exactly been treating him very well. He held out his hand, broken pinky out, the demolished digit a clear message. It was now wrapped tightly in bandages and a splint.

Estela didn't feel guilty in the least. "I asked you for your name."

"Why should it matter to you?" He snapped. "I'm doing what you want. Let's just keep this relationship as anonymous as possible."

"You know mine," Estela said. "And we would have gotten along much better if you had been more cooperative. You would have kept your pinkie, too."

"I don't want to get along." He growled.

Silence filled the space as the ship dropped into orbit. Estela watched through the viewport as the planet before them grew larger. Cultivated land, cut into rows by generations of meticulous farmers, small farmsteads, and clusters of villages came into view. The Dantooine Enclave, once so close to the spaceport, was still distinct against the green fields, despite centuries of looting and ruin.

Estela wondered why the Sith would choose here to bring Dia. It was a planet lush in Jedi memory. Archives and old Jedi manuscripts were still turning up from within the ruin, even with native interference. It was a planet strong in the Light side, not the dark. She could feel its history, of good Jedi and good men like a cleansing light. The Sith would stand out like a sore thumb, easy to track down. Both Sith would.

She quickly fought down the urge. Dia was her target. She would bring her back to the ship and speak to her away from that Sith's influence. She chanted this in her mind, fighting down the anger and hatred. It cooled, but remained a hard, sharp lump at the bottom of her heart.

"Jaster Signas." His voice broke into her thoughts.

He didn't turn to look at her, only pushed the thruster up as the landing gear came out and the ground rushed up to meet them.

And the ship touched down on Dantooine.

* * *

Dantooine was a planet ripe for farming, massive plains and farmsteads reaching out as far as the eye could see. Ivix observed the scenery and peaceful populace from underneath the ship's massive circular body. He glanced over to his holo-recorder, absorbing all the Intel his bounty hunter had managed to scrounge together on his prize.

The feeling of a plan falling into place was a savory one. And he was definitely looking forward to seeing what Dia was going to accomplish here. She had grown under his careful tutelage, and she had room yet to grow. Yes, the taint of light was still in her -he sensed it. But with her inevitable confrontation with this Jedi, with the release of twenty-one years' worth of vengeance, she would be closed to the Light side forever, and he could be assured of her allegiance.

The landing ramp of the ship hissed open, and down the ramp came the young blue Twi'lek, looking quite refreshed and excited, a skip in her step.

"There's a rather small amount of Jedi here," She said, a bit put out. "But it's good to be out of that ship finally." She leaned in close to whisper. "The red Sith makes terrible noises in slumber."

"I've taken to soundproofing my chambers." He said lightheartedly. "Perhaps you could join me next time." He added with a coy smile.

"In your chambers?" She said, grinning. "To play Dejarik, away from that abominable creature? I'd love to."

He chuckled a little, unsure if she was toying with him or if it had gone over her head. "We'll see, but for now, we need to get into the old Jedi Enclave. Unfortunately, the Republic seems dead set on excavating it."

"Shouldn't be too hard." She yawned and stretched, the movement catlike. "I'm technically still recognized as a Jedi by the universe, after all."

"And that is why you're my Pazaak twenty, the troops should let us by no problem, and I can get past the weak-minded fools myself." Ivix began walking casually down the dirt-laid path, Dia keeping pace. "However, getting out will be the main problem. Our little act will not fool the Master within. He is more attuned to you than most. After all, he did kidnap you as an infant."

"He can remember me?" She asked, incredulous. "It's been nearly twenty-one years, though."

"One never forgets a force presence as strong and incredible as yours, especially with the memory of the traumatic rift his intervention caused in the Force. He'll be able to sense how you've changed the moment you enter his vision. After that, getting out will be the main problem."

Dia's gaze fell to the ground. "Oh." She was silent for moment before adding, "So he'll attack me on sight, as the Jedi do?"

The memories of Estela's assault were still fresh on her mind, then. Ivix had predicted that this emotional scar would remain for quite a while.

"But then again, who said we're leaving the way we came in? Or that the entrance will remain standing upon our departure?" He quickly replied, trying to draw Dia's fragmented spirit back towards the dark.

Sure enough, a toothy grin broke out on her face at the mention of power.

"This should be fun, then." She smiled at him.

* * *

Drakal sat in his cot, nursing a bottle of something alcoholic and running his hands over his wounded face and head. He heard the hatch hiss shut again, and it felt like nails being driven into his brain. He had refused to disembark, to help the Twi'Leks hunt relics in a filthy Jedi ruin. His anger had reached a boiling point, and he needed time to think, to plan. Ivix had two Apprentices now, and he was damned sure that the wretched alien had a hand in his Jedi's escape. He took another swig from his bottle and started running his fingers over the holocomm on his belt.

_Perhaps its time I found backup? _He stared down at the device for a while, his mind switching back and forth almost as fast as his head beat against his skull in pain. Eventually he popped it open and tapped in the number; hoping she still used the same one as she had so long ago.

A dull buzzing rang for a moment and then a click as it was answered. Her face popped into view, framed by the blue holo-projector's light.

She had grown older; at the academy she let her hair flow down her shoulders, but now it was tied back into a tight ponytail, a single wavy strand framing her face. He remembered that her hair was fire-red, though it was colored a deep blue by the holoprojecter's filtering. Her icy blue eyes were translated well enough, though.

She fixed him with a quiet stare, eyes hovering in recognition. She folded her arms in front of her chest, her stare turning into an icy glare.

"Well I'll be damned." Her voice made him blink for a moment as memories rushed in, but he cleared his head enough to answer.

"Delia?"

"What is it, Drakal?"

"I have something I need to talk to you about soon. Are you free?"

She laughed softly, but there was an edge to it that was icier than he remembered.

"You call me after almost a decade, and this is all you have to say? What could be so important that the _great Drakal_ can't handle himself?" Her voice was sultry as she said his name, but he could tell it was just another one of her tricks. She was teasing him.

"Well, why don't we meet and I'll tell you all about it? Nar Shaddaa?"

"Oh, I don't know...That's rather far." Her voice was noncommittal, but he just had to hope she was pulling his leg like she always had.

"See you in a few days then." He closed the comm. before she responded and sighed heavily. He hadn't thought talking to her again would be so... difficult. Drakal took a swig from the bottle and rested his head back against the chair he sat in.

_Nothing left to do now but wait. _He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but his pounding headache.


	13. Setting The Stage

Setting The Stage

Finding Ivix wasn't as easy as Estela had thought it was going to be. It appeared that Dantooine was not as rooted in the light as she had initially believed. Maybe it had been a few centuries back, but no longer. She had been too naive. Touching down on the Dantooine docking bay had left her no more sure of his presence than she had been in the reaches of space.

The planet was a maze; the Jedi Enclave was theoretically not far away from where they landed, and yet it was impossible to find. The Sith ship was not in the docking bay, and there was not even a whiff of their dark-side energy on all of Dantooine. No matter how deep the meditation, Estela could not uncover hide nor tail of the two Sith, and nothing of Dia.

She worried that she had been tricked, that the Twi'lek Sith had sent her on a wild goose chase, when Jaster, tired of wandering around the small village on Dantooine, asked an old lady wandering the streets if she had seen any 'blue people'. The old lady reported that she had, though only in passing, and Estela had her first lead.

She immediately began asking from house-to-house and Jaster dragged his feet behind her the whole way. However, the populace had, after two hours of asking questions, proved quite unhelpful.

"You've already said that. Where is the Enclave?" Estela had asked this same question twenty minutes prior. That conversation had ended in disaster.

"About twenty hundred feet that way, missy. The weeest." The old lady pointed.

"It's not that way. I went that way! There was nothing there but kath hounds and wilderness!" There had been a whole pack of them, and, according to Jaster, it was mating season. They had attacked on sight with frothing mouths and wild eyes, but Estela managed to fend them off with her lightsaber, _alone_, and had left the green field frustrated and suspicious.

"Oh, dear me! Is that so? My mistake. I apologize."

"I take no offense," Estela said, sighing. "Do you have any other ideas? Where is the old Jedi Enclave?"

"I'm sorry, we are quite busy right now."

And another door closed and locked in Estela's face. She spun around in bewilderment, looking to Jaster for an explanation.

He was not forthcoming. He refused to make eye contact, staring out at the Dantooine plains.

_As utterly useless as ever. _Estela strode past him with a heavy sigh.

An agricultural planet, largely forgotten by much of the galaxy, Dantooine's entire galactic significance was made up of the ruined Jedi Enclave and Archive. What little of value that remained in the Archive was being left to a single Jedi Master for excavation, a final gutting. The Archive had been guarded by a small group of rookie troopers in order to deter the salvagers that had long been plundering its depths. Estela was seeking out those Archives on a rather informed hunch, asking the populace for directions, and had been given directions that, on multiple occasions, would have resulted in a normal being's untimely demise. Friendly farmers they were not.

And all the while, Jaster had followed behind her sullenly. She had pried him from the ship with persuasion and threats, promising his release when they left the planet and the further pain of broken appendages should he act against her. The result was a pouty young man trudging behind her every step, slow to respond to danger and unwilling to offer even his opinion on the situation. He was just dead weight, and Estela was starting to wish she had let him stay on the ship.

She heard his walk suddenly drop to a halt. She turned around impatiently.

"I do not have time to waste waiting for you, Jaster. Keep walking."

He scratched the back of his head and sighed explosively. "I'm going to regret this.." She heard him grumble. "Come on, Jedi. Let's go this way." He gestured to the northern road, which was entirely overgrown by underbrush.

Estela's hands were on her hips, and she said crossly, "No, I have already decided our course of action. There is not time to wander through the forest."

"Look, just trust me, alright?"

"You jest."

The trooper sighed. "Fine, listen." A reluctant silence followed. Estela tapped her foot, arms crossed. Jaster took in a deep breath, and when he spoke it was slow and halting. "I... I was a local here as a kid. I know the layout pretty well. Especially the Archives. And as a kid, I was played around near there. Basically, what I'm saying is... I know where to find them." He seemed embarrassed at having given so much personal information at once and broke eye contact, walking into the underbrush.

Estela followed, a bit bewildered. Jaster had hardly said a useful word the whole time. She was glad he was finally willing to help, a grateful warmth sparking up in her. Then a flash of anger flared up as she realized how long he had taken to offer that help. Let alone tell her such valuable information.

_Sod_. She projected the thought at his back.

* * *

Jaster had come prepared. A sniper rifle was strapped over his shoulder, a blaster at his right hip and a string of grenades at his left, and, in his pack, attached to the back of his belt, was a pair of electrobinoculars. He led the way in confidence, unfazed by the tall grass, pushing it out of his way and weaving his way forward. He made sure to leave enough leeway between pushes that the Jedi could step through unhindered. But from the glares she was sending at his back, he assumed his bit of attendance was going unnoticed.

He wasn't sure what to make of her. Actually he was pretty sure what to make of her -the Jedi was psycho. Ex-Jedi seemed to be a more appropriate term for her behavior. No Jedi he had heard of would snap the finger of an ally. Rather, he wasn't sure how to _get away_ from her.

The Jedi may have promised him his freedom after she was done on this planet, but he was certain she would not keep that promise. From her unstable attitude and behavior it was pretty clear no moral code was restraining her. She was all emotion, swept in every direction by every whim of feeling. Jaster couldn't trust someone like that. When a person lets emotion rule them, there becomes nothing about them that is reliable.

She moved on ahead of him as they reached the hill's peak. Her pace was quick, purposeful, one foot finding sure ground in front of the other. The white domed roofs of the Dantooine Ruins could be made out from where they stood. The Jedi let out a triumphant sigh beside him, her hands at her hips.

"Not far now." She said.

It was true.

Out before them, at the foot of the small hill they stood on, lay out the expanse of the Jedi Archives. Though affected heavily by centuries of overgrowth and weather, it stood out against the natural backdrop. Much of its walls were in crumbling heaps, the borders of its path entirely green from the grasses of Dantooine. Only the entrance stood, a large arching sight with rounded pillars. Two troopers, white armor and bright red stripes, guarded its entrance on either side.

The Jedi nodded beside him, seeming to come to a resolution within herself. She was certainly odd, and had been even before the torture. Her fierce dignity stood out even in the humble robes of a Jedi.

Her head turned to him and he looked away. "Thank you." She said. Jaster shrugged.

She began scaling on ahead of him, and Jaster called after her, "Jedi! You go on ahead! I'll keep watch back here."

"No. You will run off with the ship the moment I take my eyes off you." The Jedi replied. "Though I would certainly feel safer _without_ you nearby."

"The pain of a broken finger is not easily forgotten." Jaster said to the sky. "The unsafe feeling is mutual." A few clouds were creeping on the horizon, promising rain. He squinted in the sun's light.

"I remember snapping your finger. I do not regret doing it. And I do not need you reminding me of it every single time we converse." She sent him a blank look over her shoulder, steely grey eyes flashing in the light of Dantooine's sun. "Do not make me wait for you. My patience has been very thin of late."

_Well, it had been worth a shot._

He followed after her. Slowly.

As they were reaching the foot of the hill, Estela grabbed him and pulled him, stumbling, down into the tall grass. He was going to protest such treatment, but she clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him.

_Cripes, is this Jedi ever NOT angry?_

She stared out over the grass, head lifted so the top of her head wouldn't show. He followed her gaze, catching sight of two robed persons making their way up the stairs to the entrance. He felt her tense up beside him.

"I knew it!" She hissed. She was reaching for the hilt of her lightsaber.

_Seriously? You're going to do that now?_ Not thinking, he slapped her hand away like he would a child's. She went shock-still, stunned. Seeing her face go red with rage, Jaster paled. He instantly regretted his action. A fierce look, teeth and all, was thrown at him, but in the end the Jedi moved her hand to her side, away from her blade. The trooper let out a breath.

They watched in silence under the cover of tall grass as the two Sith approached the soldiers.

* * *

Ivix took great care as he approached the Enclave with Dia. His entire plan hinged on her reactions following his predictions. A great deal of force-augmented foresight had gone into his preparations and he had the entire procedure down to a T, accounting for variables, of course. Planning had always been one of his strong suits, both in combat and archaeology. Raiding a tomb and fighting an enemy both required the ability to predict the future, know your opponent's moves before they make them, essentially turning life into a massive game of Dejarik. His combat was an art. Unlike the wildness preferred by Drakal and his ilk, Ivix's was an assault on the mind and the body at once.

To the troopers at the door, only Dia approached, as Ivix was cloaked in the force, wiping his image from their eyes before their weak minds could process it. Beside him, Dia came to a halt before the soldiers, dropping back her hood. The brown Jedi robes were her herald, and the soldiers relaxed after looking her over. She gave a bright smile.

"Hello," She greeted. "I am Dia'Vei. I'm here to deliver a package to Master Quarek Yuud inside."

One of the troopers grinned back, adjusting his blaster nervously. The other, older, scarred face, put a hand out to stop Dia as she was passing between them. "We've received no word of a second Jedi coming this way. We'll have to confirm with the Master that you are expected."

"Oh, I'm not expected." She said. "But you've seen me before. Remember?" She tilted her head, and the Trooper got a lost look in his eye. He shook his head, blinking.

"Uh, yeah. Dia'Vei? Welcome back. You can head on in." He took a step back, to his post on the right of the entryway. The other kept on grinning like an idiot.

"Thank you." She waltzed on in.

The insides of the Dantooine Jedi Archives were in worse repair than the outside. It seemed the Jedi cared only to retrieve the valuables, like mere bandits or looters. They cared nothing for the historical value. This disgusted Ivix.

Glow-rods were set up on the walls to provide lighting, and there were distinct red markings in the shape of an "X" on the left of every doorway in their sight. The Jedi Master must have been keeping track of his progress in this manner.

The Master's presence seemed to bathe the central library at the heart of the archives. It may as well have been a beacon, for all of the energy he had poured into it. Ivix continued onwards with Dia, remaining cloaked in the force as she shot smiles and radiated innocence to the patrolling troopers, none noticing the small plastoid spheres trailing behind them and quickly scuttling into the cracks in the walls. The trip was uneventful, and by the time they reached the massive door to the library, several soft beeps came from Ivix's right arm.

Everything was in place.

"So, you believe the death of this master will grant me power?" Dia asked.

"Yes, Dia, and I feel that you should face him yourself, see it as a test, a chance to get answers, if you wish them."

"The Dark side has given me something better than answers. The dark side reveals much more than the light. And while it has favored me, overcome limits I had as a Jedi..." She trailed off. "Ivix... you know me best. Do you think me capable of defeating a _Master_?" She asked, her composure slipping a little at the thought of the coming battle.

"I do." Ivix said, smiling at her confusion. "I believe you are capable of that and more."

Dia's expression turned hopeful, but it was a desperate kind of hope. She wished to believe him, but could not believe in herself strongly enough to trust her own judgement. Ivix smiled gently. He would lead her to such confidence.

"And this is where you learn another Sith trick." Ivix replied, pulling a small vial from his belt pouch, a tiny auto-injector capped at its tip. "Brute force is not everything, my dear. This is Ysalamari-Blood Venom. The little lizards are prime prey for the Force-attuned animals of Yavin 4, their bodies have developed Force inhibitive properties, and are often used to hold force-sensitive prisoners. This will greatly weaken the Master for a time, evening the playing-field, as it were."

He offered it to her, and she took it, biting her lip.

"And where will you be?"

"I'll be evaluating your progress..." He said with a smile before fading from even her vision, the smile the last thing to vanish.


	14. An End To Peace

An End To Peace

The door closed behind her with a grinding click, dust clouding up from the impact. The Dantooine Archive Library was in disrepair. Once pristine technology was now a crumbling mess, and what was once a bright and organized assortment of holocrons now lay in piles on the floor beside toppled shelves and rotting wood. Rusted droids decomposed by the walls of the room, and cracks in the walls revealed foundational instability.

It was a mess that Dia surveyed in silence. The Jedi was not within her sights, and, upon her allegiance to the dark side, much of her tracking ability had lowered in prowess. The power that surged through her was not as easy to control as her power in the light, and the precision of tracking, once her strongest suit, had greatly suffered as a result.

This was one disadvantage of a changed mindset; the getting used to it.

Dia stalked across the room, gripping her lightsaber tight in her left hand.

She was tense. Nervousness was tightening her throat. Stiffness was creeping up her arms, and she tried to relax and tell herself how easy it was going to be. The poison was in her possession. Now, if only she could find the Jedi.

"I can see you, Dia'Vei."

His voice cut into the tension of the air. It came as though muffled by a cloud, and from all directions of the room at once.

"Your aura is not healthy, as I remembered it to be. What has happened to you?" Those last words were tinged with pity.

She swivelled and paced to the center of the room, pivoting and trying to catch any giveaway of the Master's whereabouts. "So you do remember me?" She called back to him when none was forthcoming. "Ivix said you would."

"Hmm," The voice was deep and gravelly, a testimony of age. "I recall no Master Ivix."

Dia paused. "You don't need to. Come out from hiding, coward. I seek your company." She felt sweat drip down her back. It was a cold line down her spine.

The Jedi stepped into view as if he had been there all along, circling into sight from behind a pillar. A grey-peppered beard clutched to his face, and his balding head held the occasional liver spot. His blue eyes glimmered in the light, and his force aura shone out at her.

It was an uncomfortable feeling that settled into the pit of her stomach at the sight. Such a Jedi before would have given Dia a sense of peace and comfort. And as she recognized the feeling of disgust, she recognized how far she had come. She stared at the Force aura intensely, bringing to mind the words of the one she now called master.

"_The Jedi are naught but liars_."

She threw to the forefront of her mind the expression on the trooper's face when he pressed down on the button that marked his own demise. She recalled the hatred and malice that had possessed her friend Estela. The memory made her swallow down a rush of emotion. But the swirling darkness in her heart gave her comfort.

She remembered, and saw through the light that covered the Master before her. She recognized the hypocrisy.

"_The Jedi are naught but liars_."

And then the anger came easily to her, and with it, the delicious feel of power that the Dark Side filled her with. If the Light had been a breeze, the Dark Side was a raging tempest that rushed a giddy excitement through her. It made her feel invincible.

The Jedi Master that stood before her changed his expression as he watched on. As the mad grin on Dia's face grew, so did the sorrow that existed on Master Quarek Yuud's.

He stepped forward towards her calmly, and asked, "Have you slain anyone yet?"

"I may as well have." She replied, eyeing her first mark.

"Then I must stop you before you do." The Jedi said quietly. "Will you come with me and find help? You can still turn back, away from the ruin you now chase."

She sneered, lip curling in disgust. The Jedi nodded sadly and sighed. His hand touched his saber in anticipation, his eyes analyzing the movement of the Sith before him.

Dia paced to the right, watching the Jedi. The borrowed lightsaber in her hand ignited in scarlet red, and the Jedi's followed suit, a vibrant green.

The Twi'lek itched for battle, and her body reacted before she had time to think. She zipped across the room and thrusted right at the Master. Energy like fire was filling her body, her muscles tingling. She had never felt so alive.

The Jedi, of course, easily dodged the blow, turning to the side, his saber perpendicular to the floor. But the strike was a feint, and she twirled the blade up, catching his own in an electric spark before she recovered her stance.

As she attacked, blow by blow, she fell into a state of self-awe. She could suddenly see the timing of movements, the places to strike and had the coordination to follow. The force filled her to the brink of exploding in her mind, and everything felt and looked livelier, more vibrant. She could see individual motes of dust and the weaves in his Jedi master robes, even as they fought. It was nothing like when she was a Jedi; then her body had felt disconnected, her body only a tool for the force, the waves of battle incomprehensible. No wonder the Jedi had hidden this from their pupils; their pupils would have become stronger than them.

She felt the grin widen across her face at the sense of superiority. The Jedi watched her under lowered brows, twisting or hitting aside every blow. Dia enjoyed the battle, the feel of it. And she bided her time to strike down the creature before her at the first opening.

Seconds felt like minutes and she had lost track of how long they'd been fighting, but then she saw it. A dip in his movement. He had moved to block an attack that she hadn't planned on making, and she immediately reacted to the mistake, jumping forward at him, slicing at his midsection, aiming to sever the man's body in two.

And then a blast blew her to the floor, tearing apart the force armor she had weaved and knocking the wind out of her.

The Master's blade, the heat sizzling the air, hovered above her neck, and Dia felt chills go down her spine.

All the while, the Jedi had been playing with her. The knowledge hit her like a hammer, and she grit her teeth, head facing the floor.

"You can yet live, Dia," The Master said. "Tell me who sent you, who corrupted you. Return to the light, and help us bring those that twisted your soul to justice."

Dia replied in gibberish to the floor. The Master sighed, moving his blade up a portion that she could turn her head.

As soon as he twitched, she struck. Her hand blurred and the vial, filled with Ysalamari Bloodvenom, bit into the skin under the Jedi's arm. He stiffened as it entered him, body freezing at the impact.

Dia watched in fascination as his face scrunched up in pain. He fell backwards onto the hard floor, gasping for breath as his very connection to the force burned away within.

Dia climbed to her feet, staring down at the Master. His face was pallid and covered in a sheen of sweat, his body twitching and shivering. The sight filled her with an odd fascination, and her eyes ran down the body, studying and memorizing it, an interest and excitement filling her at once. The twitch of his fingers, the sudden realization and excessive fear, the despair that his features expressed was inciting in Dia something akin to victory, but not quite. As the emotion rushed into Dia, she recognized it as utter relish.

Her lips widened in a predatory smile as she welcomed the emotion, feeling with it the rush of the dark side. A laugh sprouted from her mouth as she raised the lightsaber over her head, letting it fall to the man and enjoying the shock that her gesture inspired. She stopped it short of his neck, instead drawing a line down the man's body, the sizzle of the saber drawing out a ragged scream.

The tortured howl only made her laugh the louder. She pulled the blade off him after a moment, the excitement short-lived. She needed more. Bringing her arm back behind her head, she made a swiping motion, flinging the man through the air with the force of a Turbolaser. He impacted heavily against the aged stone wall, falling limply into a pile of old and broken holo-records. He coughed up blood, shaky arms holding himself up.

"Without the force, you're just a man." She said giddily, walking towards him. "An old man, and easily broken. Do you see how much of yourself is contrived? Sheltered behind a shield of the Force?" She held her lightsaber hovering just before his eye, one side of her mouth pulled up in a lopsided smile. "Do you see how pathetic you are?"

The Master held back a cough, aware that a mere twitch of movement would sear his left eye to blindness. "I still have my dignity." His voice was muffled by blood and cracked teeth. "But should you lose your power, what are you? It's still not-"

She pushed the blade into his eye, drawing out another scream, this one wet and gargled as blood dripped from his throat. She removed the saber swiftly, eliciting another gasp of pain. The movement was inspired by her Jedi saber training, the precision of her strike ingrained in her by Masters like the one that lay cowering before her. The sight was all the more sweet for it; finally what they had taught her was being applied, though not in the way they had imagined.

"Dia, please.." The man said shakily. He had doubled over in a ball, gripping the left side of his face. His taut muscles revealed the strain of suppressing pain without the strength of the force. "Please, it's not too late. Listen to reason. Remember the training of your Masters."

The Master lifted himself on his elbows slowly, his left eye a blackened hole and his face a ruined mass of cuts and blood as he looked at her. "Don't throw it all away for something so empty and cruel-" A cough racked his body before he could finish completely.

"Please. It's the Jedi training that has allowed me to handle you with such expertise. I must thank the Order for that." She traced the side of his cheek with her blade, and he cringed.

"I knew this from the moment I saw you as a babe." He said, his voice strained, his body shaking. "You were born to to be in the Light, Dia'Vei."

Dia shook her head, bemused. It was such a futile gesture on his part. She swept her blade across his ear, and severed the second in quick succession. The pieces of flesh went flying and the man fainted, the pain too much for him to bear.

Dia frowned at the sight, a bit put out. Then she shrugged and decapitated the man.

* * *

Ivix felt the force presence blink out of existence from across the Archive. He smiled, glad his apprentice had risen to the challenge, and had performed according to her duties. She was now a Sith, not only in name, but in being.

Having just finished a rendezvous with Darth Traya, Ivix had awaited Dia's victory from the other side of the door. When it hissed open, and he caught sight of Dia, he clapped slowly, uncaring of the scarlet-red blood that dripped from her face and covered her hands -it was clearly not hers.

"Well done, Dia." He said.

She turned to face him, emanating the delicious taste of the dark side, the power of the Sith now solidified in her. Ivix smiled proudly. And she smiled in return. A glint of mischief sparkled in her eyes and she jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck with a squeal of delight.

"I did it!" She exclaimed. "I did it, and it was wonderful." Her excited voice dropped to a heated whisper. "I was completely in control. There was nothing he could do as I exposed his stupidity, his hypocrisy, his ugliness..." She squeezed Ivix tighter with a dreamy sigh. "All of it, exposed like his guts are now..."

Ivix gently removed her arms from around him. He smiled down at her. "With him out of the way, our path is clear." He gestured to the imposing statue of a long dead master that dominated the centre of the room. "Beneath this statue is a bunker, many young Jedi fled there when Malak began his bombardment of this place. All of them died, and the bunker became the focal point of the wound caused by the death of so many force-users. It is this wound that we seek."

Dia seemed to have grown bored halfway through his spiel. She sighed. "Alright, Master." She linked her arm in with his. "Then let's get this holocron its power and be off to the wonders of space and beyond!"

The area beneath the statue ran on for metres before the duo hit the Bunker proper. Skeletons of various species clad in tattered robes littered the rubble-filled duracrete cube. The pouch on Ivix's belt with the Holocron began to glow, and transparent representations of the dead appeared, standing, clinging to the walls of the place, but watching with upturned noses.

The space was small, barely enough for five persons to live comfortably, but nearly twenty Jedi ghosts lined the walls with the same deadpan expression. Ivix's and Dia's footsteps echoed hollowly down the chamber, the noise accentuating the thick silence.

Traya's hologram, shining the blue of a force ghost, came into existence ahead of them in a meditative position, hood pulled over her head. Dia gasped at the sudden sight and moved a step behind Ivix cautiously.

"This place, a bunker. Jedi lives falling to starvation and the concussive blasts from above, a testament of the obliterated Jedi Enclave," Ivix said. "This is what you wished for, was it not, Darth Traya?"

The apparition was silent, power emanating from the woman.

Dia whispered in Ivix's ear, "Are you certain she is only a hologram?"

"There is no precedent for a force-ghost having this far a range from their place of death." Ivix answered in an equal whisper.

"This place," Darth Traya stood, her face still obscured by the shadow of her hood. "It restores me. You have done well."

"I have not done this out of the goodness of my heart, Darth Traya. You have something of value that I wish to attain. Your technique and your power, would you bestow some of this upon me?" Ivix said with a bow.

"Indeed, a reward such as this would be an ample payment for your labor." Darth Traya sounded pleased, Ivix noted. Impatience was spreading pain across his forehead nonetheless. But with the next few words, Darth Traya's demeanor became sharp and hateful, words sharply spat from her mouth. "However, I cannot give you such a gift in the presence of a creature with such despicable manner. That force-whore beside you, get rid of her, and then and only then shall we return to our business."

"Force-whore?" Ivix echoed incredulously, "This is my new apprentice, and I will have you treat her with respect."

"The creature is unstable. I do not want her learning of my techniques. This is not something I am willing to discuss." The old woman said sternly.

"Explain. She has turned away from the Jedi, and has killed in my name."

Traya sighed irritably. "She is similar to one of my old apprentices." Ivix's expression remained incredulous, and Darth Traya furthered her explanation begrudgingly. "She risks falling into the same trap as he. As I'm sure you know," She gestured at Dia, "She has an inconsistency that rots at the edges of her spirit; she seeks not after knowledge, nor after passion. What she seeks is unattainable, and treacherous. If you give her too much, she will turn on you. She is the rabid dog that tears apart the hand that feeds it. Can you not see it? Look into her with care, unblinded by... preference. See what she is, Ivix, and you will not be able to help but accept my judgment." Her head raised, cold eyes staring out from shadow. "I say this for your own benefit, boy. I demand that you heed me."

Ivix stared up at Darth Traya, who returned the look with one of boredom, impassive, and uncaring. Beneath his lips, Ivix's jaw clenched. But he knew what he had to do in order to get what he desired. Swallowing his pride, Ivix said, "Dia. I'll explain everything later. Wait for me outside."

Dia went stiff behind him. She tried to catch his eye, but he stared up at Darth Traya instead, pretending not to notice. She huffed in disappointment, and slowly moved away from him. "Yes, master." She said mockingly, and left the way they had come in.

"Now Ivix," Kreia continued once the door came to a shut behind Dia. "Thus far I have taught you how to manifest the energy and how to apply it. Now it is time you learned how to control it..." Kreia started, cryptically.

"But what does this technique accomplish?" Ivix wondered aloud.

"All will become clear in time. In the meantime, focus your mind, and permit that my knowledge flow through you..."

* * *

Dia left the room feeling quite put out. It was too unfair; she had done much for Ivix. She had turned away from her home, her family, her life. She had been expecting better treatment for following his advice, but she shut the door behind her with a resigned sigh. Perhaps patience would be helpful on the dark side as well as the light. Power had already come her way. It would only be a matter of time, so long as she was faithful and loyal to her master, before she attained more.

This hope kept her from spinning around and forcing her way into the room. The dark side filled her with the need to know anything that would further her abilities.

The words of her Jedi Masters filled her mind, Power is built, not created.

The concept seemed to apply well; the wisdom rang true. But Dia also yearned for an explanation from the one she now called Master, one that would not turn her to seek after calmness, and would not push her to seek after peace.

She twisted the end of her thin blue Lekku in one finger, leaning against the statue.

Dia stood up suddenly. The sickening sensation of light came to her senses, suddenly strong and forcing her attention. Her mind had been so distracted by the previous treatment, the dark side so entrancing, she had not even noticed.

Estela is here.

Even as this knowledge hit the Twi'lek, she knew it was already too late. Estela stood at the end of the hall, in bedraggled robes and dust.

And she approached with purposeful steps.


	15. A Dance With The Devil

A Dance With The Devil

There were few things which could make a Jedi hesitate. For Estela, there were only three:

The appearance of innocence.

The advice of a Master.

And the darkness from within.

The third was a recent addition. Even as hope filled her chest as she stared at the friend she thought lost, in her heart remained the cold, steel blade of hatred.

In truth, a truth she feared to face, despite the commanding knowledge of her mind, Estela's emotions were pointed in one direction; vengeance. Even as she sought out her old friend, rising in her was the hope that she would run into the dreadful Drakal, for any excuse to come about, allowing her to abandon her duty as a Jedi and hunt down and destroy the fiend.

Her emotions were not under her control.

Peace was not in her, and she knew that she was out of touch with the Light Side of the Force.

And the dark was calling to her, compelling her, singing that her very soul ought reach out and embrace it.

It was a temptation that sprouted from her own heart. One she could only barely restrain herself from.

"Estela!" Dia met the Jedi midway in the hall, her usual disarming smile spreading across her face. The Twi'lek made as if to hug Estela, but the human pulled back, giving the Twi'lek a level stare.

"Why are you alone? Where are the other Sith?"

"Wha-? But..." She seemed dejected, and Estela felt something akin to guilt for turning away her affection.

It was true that only recently Estela had been willing to kill her. But that had been when she wasn't in control of herself, her rational thought had been lost because of the incessant torture of a Sith. Now, gladness filled her to be with her friend, and fear for her friend's state of mind.

"Well, the Twi'lek got called away by the Holocron, the other is sleeping back on the ship..." Dia shrugged. "I guess you could say I escaped."

Estela's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What about the Jedi Master?"

"The who?"

"Quarek Yuud. Human. Jedi Master. He was stationed here. His force presence disappeared about half an hour ago." Estela watched Dia's face carefully, noting the expression. Or, rather, the lack thereof. Dia stared blankly as Estela continued. "I assumed one of the Sith killed him. But..."

"What is it?" She blinked innocently.

"Strange that you didn't sense him." Dia had long been the most Force-sensitive. If Estela had felt and known it, hindered by a complete lack of focus, how could Dia have not? "Perhaps the Sith's power muted your abilities."

"That must have been it."

Estela nodded, but within her heart sank. Dia was lying. This meant one of two things; either Dia had given herself over to the darkness the Sith had force-fed her, or the Sith had somehow managed control her against her will.

Estela hoped for the latter, unlikely though she knew it was.

"Well," Estela said after a moment, her eyes not leaving Dia's. "I'm happy to see you. It's fortunate that I've found you again." Dia's lips turned upwards in a smile that gave Estela chills. There was something so _off _about her.

"Fortunate indeed." They continued to watch one another from across the short distance between them, both wary but trying not to show it. The awkward tension was so thick in the hallway she felt like she could cut it with a knife.

Estela's fingers traced the saber's hilt beneath her robes as Dia broke the silence. "Do you still think I'm a Sith, Essa?" She took a step towards the Jedi once more, arms outstretched, and Estela quickly jumped back.

But at the sight of tears brimming in Dia's eyes, Estela immediately regretted her doubts.

"No, no, Dia! I don't." She said, crossing the distance between them. She stared down at the crying girl for a moment, cursing herself for doubting her friend once more. "And I'm sorry for my actions before. I just... I'm sorry." She circled her arms around Dia, enveloping the Twi'lek in a comforting embrace.

She felt Dia's answering hands crawl up her back, and relief flooded over her as the embrace was returned. Doubting Dia had been a mistake, and caused this rift between them, subjected her friend to further influence from the Sith.

The regret and penance mingled, and a sense of fulfillment in the embrace overcame Estela. She sighed into the feeling; it was like a load had been pulled off her shoulders. But, Estela remembered with regret, they could not afford to stay like this for too long. The Sith could come upon them at any moment. She felt Dia's hands fidget, and figured it was time she broke the embrace.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when there was a distinct sensation of something burning into her, followed by a fiery pain erupting from her lower abdomen that shot up her spine like lightning. Estela saw only white, blinding white.

One hand on the floor, Estela blindly grabbed at her back. And her fingers found and encircled the hilt of a vibroknife. She blinked and her head snapped up to see Dia, unable to believe what had just happened.

"Oh please," Dia said derisively. "Don't give me that look. Did you really think it would be so easy? After you tried to _kill _me? Did you think I would just forget?"

Estela gasped. Clenching her teeth, she pulled out the blade from her back. The familiar sound of a lightsaber igniting penetrated her senses. And Dia approached.

"Get up already." Dia said impatiently.

Slowly, Estela did. A calmness was coming over her, but it was not the kind that had filled her for those many years spent walking in the light. It was cold, and harsh, like frozen fire.

She should have seen this coming. She should have listened to her instincts.

The weapon had left a hole in her, and Estela knew she would not be able to seal it; the Force she was calling on now was not so forgiving or refreshing.

It only wanted to kill.

* * *

The sound of clashing lightsabers - electric crashes of noise - erupted across the ruins. Republic troopers, stationed sparingly, moved into action. They, with rifles out and at the ready, made their way out of the ruins, having been ordered by a Jedi of the Order to retreat upon such a sound, to retreat and report the situation to the Republic, and, by extension, to the Jedi Order.

Jaster Signas was not among them.

The Trooper Scout, long sniper rifle strapped around his back, climbed his way across the top of the crumbling ruin walls. He came to a stop about a hundred meters away from the clashing lightsabers that lit up the dark space. He wasn't quite sure why he was doing what he found himself doing; he could well have just ran to the ship and left the psychotic jedi in the dust. Yet here he was, going towards the sound of fighting instead of away from it.

The shadow of night had fallen on the Dantooine Ruins, and with it, a soft sprinkle of rain. Drops, falling from the sky, soaked the dirt atop the crumbling walls and ran down the sides, and the roof of the Ruins was a slippery slope within minutes.

His years of republic special forces training kicked on in his mind, and Jaster took in the environment with an analytical eye. The weather was a mixed blessing; the sound of rain would be a great help in masking his footsteps and sneaking close to any enemies, but it did make the act of climbing walls a treacherous task. He half-crawled his way across the top of the ruins, one hand out at the ready to grab on to the wall should one misstep lead to his fall.

The clashing sound of lightsabers matched the intensity of the mixing colors of red and yellow like lightning in the night ahead of him, and from the proximity, he knew this was the spot. He settled into a nearby crevice of mud and readied his rifle, closing one eye as he looked into the scope. Immediately he began steadying his breathing, calming his heart in preparation for a clean shot.

The image of Estela was hard to catch for long through the scope, as the two combatants were moving quickly, but he could see even from here that she was in pain. A trail of dark liquid pooled at her back and trailed after her every step, and the sight struck him with a pang of worry. He blinked at his own reaction, slightly surprised at himself, before he shook his head and refocused.

The Twi'Lek... Dia, Estela called her, flourished her blood-red lightsaber in confidence and a crooked smile. He couldn't make out the words, but it was clear she was gloating. Estela was leaning forward, clearly from the wound, and her saber was lowered to her side, nowhere near a guarded position. Jaster grit his teeth as Dia took a sudden step closer, her blade swinging mercilessly at the Jedi.

Estela repelled the attack with a backwards step. Her back straightened, suddenly rigid. When Dia attacked again, Estela returned the favor with a thrust of her own, an attack too outreaching and too open. Sensing the mistake, the Twi'Lek slashed across Estela's midsection, landing a shallow but effective blow.

As the Jedi doubled over, Dia brought a knee up into her open wound, sending Estela to the floor and eliciting a scream that chilled Jaster to the core. As Estela lay moaning on the floor, Dia approached for the final blow. Her lips moved as she spoke, no doubt gloating all the more.

He felt an unexpected hatred for the Twi'Lek at the sight, and squeezed the trigger with no small amount of satisfaction.

The bullet exploded against the Twi'Lek's head, while It hadn't been a shot to kill, per Estela's strict instructions, Dia would be out for a few hours at least. Jaster got to his feet with a sigh of frustration. Had the woman not dumped his supply of real ammunition along the roadside beforehand, this Twi'lek would be dead.

He strapped his rifle back behind his shoulders and used the mud to slide down to more sure footing. His face scrunched up in concern at Estela's still form on the ground before him. His fingers found her neck, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as a slow but steady pulse beat up against his fingertips. He slid his hands under her body and lifted her, slowly. She groaned at the rough movement, and he saw her eyelids flutter. Dia's prone form, a few feet away, stirred as well. Jaster considered stomping down on her skull, just to ensure she didn't trouble him later, but knew time to be of the essence in this case.

He was struck by how ridiculously heavy the Jedi was as he began walking back the way he came, and made a mental note to broach the subject with her later... Much later. One broken finger was more than enough.

He glanced up at the path before him, wondering how he would get Estela's unconscious body back up through the mud when he stopped. Squinting against the rain, a shadow seemed just ahead of him, obscured by the night. As he tried to catch sight of it, it vanished from view. Chills ran down his back as fears that he tried to dismiss crept into his mind.

A chuckle, deep and ominous, came from just behind him, and as his head twisted around, he felt an overpowering presence directly in front of him.

And suddenly he was face-to-face with a Sith.

The Twi'Lek raised one hand, an arrogant smirk plastered across his mouth, and lightning erupted from the tips of his fingers, enveloping the trooper's body in fiery pain. Estela dropped from his arms as Jaster collapsed to the ground, steam rising from his armor from the rain and sudden heat.

"Don't be so dramatic, little trooper. That was barely enough power to stun you," The Sith chuckled.

Jaster sucked in a half-muddy breath, one that erupted halfway into a fit of coughs.

"Be glad that you did not kill my newest apprentice," The Sith noted. "It is the only reason I spare your life now." His tone turned sour. "Get up."

Pain was in every movement as his muscles tried to respond, but Jaster slowly got to his feet, knowing his life depended on it.

"Your name, Trooper?" The Sith asked, circling the charred man.

"Jaster Signas, Havoc Squad, Republic Special Forces."

"Special forces? I'm honored they think so highly of me."

"Don't be. I didn't come here for you." Jaster's response was met with another chuckle as the Sith glanced briefly at Dia.

"No, I imagine not." The Sith looked down at the ground for a moment in thought before looking back towards him and the unconscious Estela. "I see my apprentice did some damage before I could intervene. It won't be long before the life slips out of her." The Sith smiled sadly, as if he were speaking to a toddler incapable of understanding. "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement, Jaster." The Sith's reasonable response was at odds with everything he'd been told about the Sith as a whole, but confirmed the doubts he'd carried during his long years of service. "Her life, in exchange for your cooperation."

"Cooperation?"

"It is simple, Jaster of Havoc Squad. Simply do as I ask, and your Jedi friend lives."

Jaster's eyes squinted suspiciously. If his trader father had taught him anything, it was to never accept a deal at face value.

"What is it you'd ask for me to do?" He said cautiously.

The Sith smiled slowly. "This is not an agreement made between equals, Trooper. I am asking for your allegiance, in exchange for her life. And, obviously, your own life as well. Oh, and choose quickly, my skills in healing can only go so far."

Jaster grit his teeth as he looked down at the Jedi's battered form. He knew when he was beaten.

His head fell down in a single defeated nod, and with it came a tide of self-loathing.

Jaster Signas of the Havoc Squad had become a traitor to the Republic.


	16. Back In The Fold

Back In The Fold

The Kolto Tank on _Ryloth's Horn_ hissed and bubbled, draining before dropping its occupant dripping and naked to the deck. Kaai coughed and spat, expelling the fluid from her lungs. She stood, waving away the ship's medical droid, nicknamed Sawbones. "Report! Where are we?" She asked the Ship's computer, walking towards the cockpit.

"Ma'am, we are at Coordinates 34.73.2. Currently orbiting the remnant of the Peragus II Mining station."

"Peragus II? Why are we here?" She asked, staring over the debris-filled starfield.

"Several hundred years ago, a rogue Republic _Hammerhead_ class ship detonated the volatile asteroid field. During your healing, I began cross-referencing your master's vision with known anomalies. Peragus II matched his description of a destroyed planet with a 97.25% accuracy."

"Uh-huh." Kaai merely said, crossing her arms over her still-bare chest. "Any reason you speed woke me? Here I was ready to fight invading Jedi in the buff, and all I see are rocks."

"I can see why you are irritated, Ma'am, but I have acquired, as you would say, 'loot'."

"Oh really?" The Togruta replied, her tone having switched from loathing to interest. "What is it?"

"A computer databank. Surprisingly intact after all this time, but it requires intense decryption."

"What have you managed to extract from the surface data?"

"Only this." The Holodisplay sprung to life, showing a hooded figure matching the description of Ivix's vision running through hallways decorated with Republic livery, pursued by what appeared to be a walking corpse.

"Well. This would warrant a closer look." She tapped some keys on the console before sending an audio message to her master."Master, I've found something that may be of use to you near the Peragus System. It needs decryption, so I'm taking it to our usual guy on Nar'Shadaa."

She closed the commlink with a flick of the wrist, and took note of the gnawing hunger taking place in her stomach. After punching the coordinates for the criminal planet, she made her way down to the mess hall for a bite to eat.

* * *

Jaster's foot fell on the metallic ground of the Sith ship with trepidation. The Twi'Lek Sith and Estela's Twi'Lek friend walked on ahead of him.

The Sith had given him a name to call him by - "Master". Jaster's mouth quirked at the thought. The conceit of the Sith was not an untrue claim, after all. And though the stories regaling them as life-sucking monsters didn't seem to match up with this one, Jaster remained open to possibilities.

Yes, the Sith. The scourge of the galaxy, and Jaster had thrown his lot in with them. And for what? A Jedi?

_Idiot_. He thought to himself, inwardly cursing his own stupidity.

Estela remained in his arms, an unconscious lump of weight. Recalling her behavior onboard the _Skyarch_, and his own broken pinkie, he wondered if she would have preferred to die rather than be taken by these Sith.

A steely resolve entered him at the thought. There was no way he would let this Jedi die.

As the thought passed through him, and his own confusion with it, a droid with outstretched arms approached.

"Let the droid take her." The one that liked being called 'Master' said.

Jaster's first instinct was to object, but his better judgement took over. Reluctantly he dropped an unconscious Estela into the droid's arms.

"Don't worry, trooper." Dia said coyly. "The droid will take good care of her."

Jaster shrugged it off, but his eyes followed the droid until it disappeared down the small hallway. "So what do you want me here for?" He asked the Twi'lek.

"That shall be made clear in due time." He said, making his way down the hall. "But for now, you need only follow."

* * *

Estela woke up shivering. Blinking away the blurriness in her vision and feeling her senses slowly return, she sat up in the creaking bunk. Bleary eyes traced an unfamiliar ceiling, and the cold seeped beneath her skin into her very bones.

A brief memory of Dia's betrayal flashed in her mind, and she blearily tried to make sense of it. She recalled Dia's winning blow to her abdomen, recalled falling... the feel of mud beneath her and the brief, lurching sensation of being lifted up by strong, armored arms. There was nothing beyond that, the memory stopping there.

Her hands rubbed her stomach where she remembered being cut, slipping under the rip in her robes to feel the skin beneath. There was no trace of a wound, not even a thin scar line.

She recognized the masterful job as a Force-healing, and paled as the blood left her face in horror. It could have only been the Sith.

"Were I to have one thing to bring-" A familiar voice made her eyes shoot open wide, her spine going rigid despite the pain in her muscles. "A sword of fire to make them sing." A moment passed as she forced her mind to fight down the sheer terror the voice brought forth in her.

_No, not again..._

"Of agony and moans with which to clean, A soul of black and a heart of green." She closed her eyes to stop tears born of terror.

"Welcome back to the fold, dear Estela."

She turned to the voice, shaky hands gripping her sides as she resisted the urge to vomit. The familiar scarred and blood red face of Lord Drakal greeted her in the dim light of the small medical room. The Sith's eyes were lit up red and his fanged teeth shone bright in a wicked smile. He was sitting backwards in a chair at her bedside, his arms resting on the chair's back as he watched her rise.

"What's the matter? Don't tell me I did _that_ good a job last time we were together?" He chuckled slightly at his own joke, but her lack of expression must have soured him some as his smile slowly faded.

"You're disgusting." She finally said. The fear was giving way to an animalistic rage, a tempest that inwardly she tried to tame. She had to stay calm. She couldn't give him the satisfaction.

The Sith watched her for a moment, his eyes hovering on her face as he waited for an expression of her feelings. But after a moment his smile returned and he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; as if he had suddenly caught a fine aroma in the air.

"You hide it well, Estela, but everyone on this ship can feel your anger. Truly, you might even be a match for me one day with that hatred."

"You're mistaken. It's yourself you smell. Hatred, anger, passion, every revolting emotion of the dark side comes from you." She dropped her eyes, scooting back in the bed so her back touched the wall furthest from him. "I'm nothing like you." But her words didn't have the effect she'd been expecting; he laughed openly, completely unruffled.

"Oh, how I've missed these little talks of ours. But I'm sure now we can catch up on-" His smiled died immediately and his head cocked to the side as though he was hearing something she couldn't. He whispered to himself quietly and she hoped wistfully for a brief second that he was losing his mind.

"Who is this? How are you speaking to me?" His expression of frustrated curiosity turned into a full blown snarl. "Do _**not**_ get in my head again, little Twi'lek, or you may find yourself without yours!"

_Why wait._ Estela muttered under her breath. It must have been Dia, sneaking into Drakal's mind with a mindlink. The thought of the Twi'Lek stung; the betrayal was a fresh wound, and nowhere near healed.

She considered taking advantage of Drakal's distraction to strike, but quickly dismissed the futile urge. Patience was creeping into her rage, the cool blade of vengeance ready for the day of fulfilment.

The door opened with a hiss, drawing both Estela's and Drakal's eyes to it. The small form of Dia stepped through, a trace of a smile playing on her lips.

"Alright, Drakal," She clapped once, as if to a dog. "Off with you. You're not welcome here."

Drakal's incredulous look was almost worth the pain of laughing as he stared up at the girl. It didn't last long, however, as he shoved himself from his chair, knocking it to the ground in fearsome rage. Balling his fists tightly, he glared into Dia's eyes.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I take orders from an _apprentice._ Now why don't you run along and play with your _master_ while grown-ups talk?"

Foolishly, Dia was entirely unintimidated, and instead smiled all the wider. "Please, Drakal, please. I'm not just any apprentice. Remember Ivix? The Twi'Lek that sleeps in this bu-" The backhanded slap was so sudden Estela could barely tell that it was from him as Dia was sent to the ground. He huffed in annoyance and stepped over her as she felt at her face in shock. Looking back once more before the door closed, Drakal met his eyes with her own.

"We'll talk later."

Estela stared after him as he left, wishing she had a saber on her; wishing she had the nerve to strike.

Dia was sullen as she got to her feet and sat on the bunk across from Estela. It was a change that Estela welcomed with concealed glee, a sensation that came with the sting of guilt. It took a minute for Dia to find her voice once more, but when she did, her anger boiled up with it.

"He... He can't do that! Ivix will-!"

"Why are you here." Estela deadpanned. She was in no mood for Dia's foolish ramblings.

Dia squinted at Estela. "What, are you still mad? You got healed and everything's fine. Get over yourself."

Estela's fingers balled into fists, barely constraining her anger. "Dia, leave. I'm done talking to you."

Dia huffed in annoyance as she propped her head up on one hand. "You realize you have to talk to me eventually right? It's a small ship."

Estela ignored her, closing her eyes.

"Fine. Be that way." Dia said, and Estela felt the prodding hands of the Twi'Lek's technique touching her mind.

She immediately leapt from her bunk and crossed the small space to land a sound slap on the same cheek Drakal had injured. Dia gasped, her hand flying to the spot.

"Essa!" She cried. "You're terrible! What's wrong with you!?"

Estela couldn't believe the almost laughable lack of conscience in Dia. She couldn't even find the words to speak to the girl. She sat back down on her bunk with a sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted.

She heard Dia sigh. "Estela, I don't want to be doing this either. I wanted everything from my Jedi life to be over and done with... Can you just let me do this and then let me leave?"

Estela ignored her, and when the prodding fingers came into her mind again, she threw them off with another burst of force.

Dia huffed, indignant. "Even coddling you isn't good enough, huh? Fine. Fine." She stood up and crossed the distance, coming uncomfortably close to Estela, leaning in with a twisting smile. "Hostage, then. Remember that trooper? The one that you brought over to Dantooine? That _gallant _white knight that saved you from the bite of my saber?"

Estela glared back. "What about him?" _He ran, didn't he? Why wouldn't he run?_

"Well, Master Ivix is taking care of him right now." Amicably, Dia plopped herself down next to Estela. "They're all alone together in a room not too far from here. Let me know if you hear any screaming. I'll let you know it's your fault." Dia said softly. "And all you had to do was cooperate."

When Estela still said nothing, Dia stood up. "I thought lives mattered to you, Estela. Figures. The hypocrisy of the Jedi is plenty present in you, too. Ah well, I'll let Master know. Look like we'll just have to kill you both..." She said with theatrical sorrow.

"No... I.." Estela said haltingly, her mind conjuring images of Jaster going through the torture she had been subjected to before. "What are you going to do?"

Dia smiled. "It's nothing bad, it's actually something really, really good. What I did before, with your mind. I'm trying to show something to you."

Estela could only assume the Sith had put her up to this. But she had no choice. "What do you want to show me?"

"The truth." Dia said, taking Estela's question as permission. The invisible fingers prodded at Estela's mind once more, and this time she didn't resist.

* * *

Ivix was sitting for the third time in the ship's lounge, once more negotiating with an enemy that could become an ally. The astromech droids had done amazing work with the lounge. They had replaced the damaged holotable and already finished patching up the holes left by their previous guest, so the place looked as good as new. Jaster sat on the opposite couch as Ivix sipped his drink, surreptitiously probing the Trooper's mind. It wasn't long before he found leverage.

"So, Jaster, was it?" The Twi'Lek said, every bit the charming host. "I do hope you enjoy your stay on this ship, and that our little business proposal can continue without the loss of any _assets._" He stressed the last word.

"Can we just get down to business?" Jaster replied, anxious. He sat in a hive of Sith, and his training-tempered caution screamed of its undeniable danger. Every second he spent in this place was another second that death hovered over him.

"Shrewd, Corporal Jaster. Very shrewd." The alien replied, patronizing the man, who took the insult with forced discipline. "Well, let's get down to brass tacks. I need your Jedi friend to help me build my power base. You need her alive, and responsive to your advances, yes?"

"My advances..?" Jaster shifted uncomfortably. "Respectfully, sir, being a _Jedi_ isn't what I look for in a woman. And that's not the only thing wrong with her either." He sighed, but after a moment added begrudgingly. "But... yes, I'd rather she wasn't... dead."

"Well then, we are in agreement. With the seeds of darkness so brutally planted by my barbarian of a colleague, the Jedi will never take her back. Unfortunately, without proper guidance, she could likely snap you in half like a twig. Even with that cheap plastoid armor. But under my guidance, she will become a new woman, liberated from that silly Jedi nonsense, open to her emotions; to anger, hate, love, and passion." He gave an almost unnoticeable wink with the last two words.

"So what do you want me to do?" The trooper cut in impatiently. Ivix took amusement in his squirming.

"Just one simple thing. The Jedi have been tracking me and my artifact, and will continue to until they determine it to be a lost cause." He paused and took a swig of his drink. "All you have to do is _make it _a lost cause. Fake your own death."

Jaster snapped to attention at this. "That's all?"

"Oh, no, don't worry. I have plans aplenty for you afterwards." Ivix smiled. "Remember the words of your promise; you are bound to my command."

Ivix took a breath, awaiting the trooper's response. But the man had gone stoic, standing at attention with his face impassive. But creeping from him was the scent of fear, and Ivix breathed in again, enjoying the aroma.

"Take the _Skyarch_ into orbit around Dantooine, fake sensor records indicating a massive Sith attack, and report the death of all hands, including the Jedi. Initiate the self-destruct, and bail out with a jump pack. The _Smile_ will be waiting to let you in."

"Why not an escape pod?"

"Because, my poor, slow-witted trooper, that would cause the Republic to believe their foolish pursuit mission retains a smidgen of hope." Ivix smirked. "And it's a lot less fun."

The door slid open and revealed what Ivix had long sensed coming. The Sith Lord Drakal filled the doorway with a raging fire in his eyes as he regarded both him and the trooper. He still wore his head bandage from his concussion, but it failed to lessen his visage of anger. He didn't spare the newcomer a moments notice before jumping right into the thick of it.

_Typical._

"What does your little Twi'lek mean when she says I'm 'not allowed' to see my own prisoner?" He demanded roughly, his red eyes penetrating and disturbing close to unnerving Ivix. He shook his head and set down his drink, knowing that him taking his time would annoy the Sith all the more.

"she means exactly that, and speaks with _my_ authority."

"_And what makes you think I obey __**you**__?" _He yelled loud enough to be heard through a bulkhead. "When did you suddenly grow a spine enough to deny me what is rightfully mine? Or did you forget how close you came to death the last time we disagreed?"

"If I recall," Ivix responded calmly, though inside the man's arrogance irked him. "We both nearly died multiple times. But now is not the time for this, we have a guest."

"To hell with your guest, you don't-!"

"I told you I would find you another plaything and I will. Denying you Estela is simply an inconvenience. Rest assured Drakal, time is all I require." His declaration would normally be met with more grumbling or shouting, but to Ivix's surprise the bear of a man subsided.

"You had better. I grow tired of waiting."

After glaring a moment longer at Ivix, Drakal let his posture relax before he turned on his heel and the door slid shut once more behind him.

_Something is not right there... He never lets go of a fight that quickly._

He let his gaze linger briefly on the door before he looked back to the man sitting across from him. Jaster looked completely bewildered by the conversation, and more than a little frightened, likely having feared a battle to happen right here in this room, and knew that he would have been minced to pieces. Drakal's entry was rather like a hurricane, quick, loud and damaging to his daily plans, but at least Jaster had not attempted to speak.  
Ivix was glad that he had not recruited an idiot, and lounged back on the couch, offering the man a drink.

* * *

_It's really very simple, Essa. The Jedi lied to us about the Sith, and we were too blind to see it. _Dia said in conclusion. _The Sith aren't necessarily evil. There are plenty of Jedi far more corrupt than them. Besides, what is 'good' anyway? Doesn't it make more sense to get what you can out of your life rather than wasting it on everyone else's?_

Invading the space of Estela's mind, Dia brought with her the memories of her time with the 'Lord Ivix', that had turned her from the light. Estela had watched the Twi'Lek manipulate her friend with fascinated horror. He was cunning in his deception, this Sith in particular, and she made a mental note to watch him carefully.

But the lies he fed her friend were rooted in an undeniable truth. Much as Estela hated to admit it, the darkness in her own heart was a clear testimony; the Force was more than just the Light side. It was a pool of energy that a Force-User's mind and body could be tempered to channel. The longer she thought about it the more clearly she saw it. Light, Dark, each had its own strengths and weaknesses. To limit oneself to any one doctrine would be short-sighted, and the potential of the user stunted.

These thoughts had been churning in Estela's mind over the last few days. The anger that blocked her from the Light Side pushed her towards darker techniques in order to harness it. Why should she not use it if needed? Just because a person used a dark side power shouldn't mean they had to be evil as well.

True, she had seen for herself the evil that came with a lack of restraint. The Sith, Drakal, that could harm another, and even glory in it. Dia's compassion turned to sadistic tendency, and Estela's own hateful heart were all undeniable testimonies to the danger of the Dark Side. But so long as that passion was tempered by restraint, what should keep a Jedi from using it?

While the danger was undeniable, the power was even more so. And Estela could see no reason to deny herself that power when her life, or the life of another, was at risk.

All of this passed through her mind in only a brief moment, but Dia must have sensed the feeling of acceptance in Estela, as Estela felt Dia's answering satisfaction through the bond created by their melded minds.

Dia broke the link a moment later, and Estela opened her eyes to Dia's excited and joyous face. But the Jedi was still cautious.

"So do you see now Essa? We can do this together, just like we used to! Except now, it will be for ourselves, and not for some antiquated ideals forced upon us from birth."

After a long moment, Estela shook her head. "No, it won't be like it used to. Joei is dead and you... I can't trust you anymore."

Dia shrugged, but her expression gave away her disappointment. "Maybe not. But at least now you understand." She got to her feet, and began to leave the room, stopping at the door to say, "Oh, and don't leave this room. If you do, Ivix can't guarantee your safety regarding Drakal."

The door closed behind her and Estela was left alone with her thoughts.


	17. Woe For A Mando

Woe For A Mando

Lord Drakal The Bloodthirsty sat on his bunk aboard the _Nexu's Smile_, staring idly at his open palms. He studied the lines with a frown as his mind wandered over recent events. Ivix had not shared his plans of course, but his decision to destroy the _Skyarch _had been a bit of a surprise. He had thought of the Twi'lek as the type that would never give up a potential resource.

It had been a week or so since their explosive departure from Dantooine. Ivix's firework display had ensured they had to make a speedy retreat before the Republic came calling. But he was was a bit disappointed in a way, as now the Jedi Council would not send anyone else after them. He enjoyed the necessity of having to constantly be alert, to stay on his toes at all times was a skill he had learned to keep honed to a fine point.

Lifting his hands to his head, he ran a finger down the head-wrap that partially obstructed one eye. Thinking about the way he'd obtained the wound was a bitter pill to swallow, but life happened and things would go wrong, as always. He knew without a doubt that this trip would be a very different one if he had not been knocked unconscious during Estela's escape.

Slowly grabbing the loose end of the bandage he began to unwrap it from his head. He winced occasionally as his hand brushed against the bruise underneath, but kept going at a steady pace. Before long he had the whole thing off and stared down at the bloody rag in his hands. He almost dreaded looking in the mirror, but then, he'd certainly had worse wounds before. Getting up from his bed he strode across the room to look in the head height mirror that hung there.

The wound was surprisingly light given its severity, and was far less grizzly than he'd imagined it to be. The left side of his head was a fading purple in some areas, and yet others were almost to their usual shade of red instead of orange. The color was a tad darker in the middle where he had bled, but it looked as if the healing process had almost run its course. Running a hand gently over the bump led to another wince, but he decided to keep the bandage off. It wasn't likely doing him much good now anyway.

Trudging back over to his bed, he sat down heavily and breathed in a sigh. The ship was completely out of alcohol by this point, which made for two good reasons to hit Nar'Shaddaa soon. He went through his plan again in his head, going through his mental checklist slowly.

_Gotta make sure Ivix doesn't figure out what I'm doing there, and check for tails. Then make sure Delia isn't setting me up somehow. She always was the more clever one. Next would be to make sure we get some quality supplies for this tugboat he calls a space ship. _Drakal snorted at himself in amusement after he paused in his thoughts.

_Look at me, making plans? Since when have I ever made plans except in battle? I need to get off this ship and kill something soon. These damn aliens are starting to get to me._

Two humans, two Twi'leks, and a Togruta were the arsenal arrayed against him, and all he had was an old friend. Shaking his head a little at how things had gone so wrong, he turned in his bed to stare up at the ceiling in thought. They had all agreed that Nar'Shaddaa was the best choice for their next stop, the agreement was a rare enough occurrence all by itself. But what bothered him most was how readily Ivix had agreed to the choice. Likely the idiot had some kind of gizka-brained scheme hatching . But what made the situation intolerable was that, as much as he hated to admit it, he was outmatched. He knew it, Ivix had to know it too. So why hadn't the damn Twi'lek made his move? What was keeping him from simply killing Drakal off now rather than later?

Realizing that his thoughts were simply going in circles now, he turned over once more to find a more comfortable position to sleep in. He wanted to be well rested for when they landed on the Smuggler's Moon in a few hours.

_I'll sleep on it, and maybe sneak in a little visit to Estela when I wake up. If there is time..._

Drakal smiled wickedly at his last conscious thought before sleep took him.

* * *

Ivix had run his plan over and over in his head for the entirety of the voyage to Nar'Shaddaa. Destroying the _Skyarch_ had netted him precious distance over the Republic, if not throwing them from his tail completely. Now with the potential of Kaai's discovery, Nar'Shaddaa could be the clincher in his scheme. Drakal would eventually betray him, this was certain, but Ivix did not want to kill him just yet. The advantage granted to him would keep the beast at bay until his usefulness was spent. There was also the strange properties of the crystal that dwelt in his lightsaber. There was no true reason for the two artifacts to be linked. After all, the crystal seemed much older than the Holocron, so the consciousness within it must have had a reason for keeping them together.

_ But what could it be?_ He mused to himself. Whatever it was, he had to hold his advantage. His Pazaak face must be perfect, especially with the aid of an old friend on Nar'Shaddaa.

A glance out of the cockpit's window gave him a clear message. The ship would touch down soon. He made his way to the small quarters he had kept the trooper confined to during the journey.

It was high time his plans be put into motion.

* * *

Jaster knew better than to speak up. The Sith liked to be in command, to be in control. He knew the type well; plenty of commanding officers had been no different. And he had learned quickly that with such a person it was better just to follow, silently, and appear as submissive as was believable.

'Master' tarried on ahead of him down the narrow hallway of the ship, his blue Twi'Lek head-tentacles bouncing slightly at the movement. Jaster recognized the area as where Estela had been taken from him days ago. But he kept his mouth shut, not sure of how intelligent the Sith wanted him to be.

"Stay in here." Was all the Twi'Lek said, opening the door. He grabbed Jaster's collar and threw the trooper into the room, closing the door behind him.

Jaster let himself fall heavily to the ground on instinct, groaning at the pain it brought. The door closed with a click behind him, and Ivix's retreating footsteps soon followed the sound.

"Jaster..?" A familiar, sharp and needling voice said.

He winced as he got to his feet, turning his head to face... yep, it was Estela. He gave a half-wave to her stunned face, trying not to laugh at how silly the expression looked on her. She was standing, her hands laced in front of her, her stunned look changing to one of perplexity.

"What are you doing here?" She asked moving towards him, then hesitating. "I'm glad you're alright, but what happened?"

Keeping his thoughts from showing on his face, he replied, "What do you mean, what happened?"

"You ran, didn't you?" She said. "Isn't that how you are? Survive, solve your problems later..?" She looked completely bewildered and once again Jaster was keeping himself from laughing.

"You don't think much of me, huh?" He said, sitting down easily on the bunk across from her. "I'm practical, but I'm not a coward." He looked at her a bit longer, then added, "Though, really, the whole thing may have been worth it just to see the look on your face."

She was taken aback at that comment, but her surprise soon turned into a sharp glare, an expression that seemed to say "Don't make fun of me."

"Dia told me... about you." Estela said. She hadn't moved since he'd been thrown into the room. "She said you were like a white knight," Her tone had turned doubtful. "Saving me from death."

Jaster shrugged. "It didn't entirely work, seeing as how we're now prisoners of these stinking Sith, but I am a soldier. I do have a sense of duty."

_Talking big, aren't I? _ But the truth of the matter was he had abandoned his comrades back on Onderon's moon to preserve his own life. Yet he had risked his own to save this Jedi. He couldn't help but wonder to himself _why?_

"So it was true..." Estela breathed. She took a seat next to him, and looked straight into his eyes, a look filled with resolve.

Something about her sent recognition flooding through him, and it wasn't long before it clicked. She looked like she had been restored, like she had become a Jedi again.

Estela took Jaster's left hand in her own, the touch soft and gentle. A warm glow emanated from the contact, the color of it a shimmering blue. Jaster watched in awe as the sense of restoration, devoid of pain, came over his broken digit. In a moment, his finger was healed.

He held it up in amazement, taking off the cast, watching it bend and unbend.

"I'm sorry." Estela said sincerely. "I misjudged your character. I will not doubt you again."

He nodded numbly. This was the first time he had seen a Jedi heal, and it astounded him.

"Alright. Glad that's over with," Estela breathed, the tension leaving her. "Good work, soldier. Now, I'd like to know why you're in such good condition. Have the Sith been treating you well?"

He swallowed. Then he nodded. "They have. Kept me well-fed and everything." After some thought, he added, "Like a pig on a farmstead."

She smiled. "Good answer. And a very accurate depiction. The Twi'Lek one, Ivix, uses hospitality to lower your guard and steal away your allegiance. Don't let his friendliness fool you-he'd tear you apart in a heartbeat."

_Don't I know it..._ The excruciating burn of the Twi'Lek's Force Lighting was still fresh on his mind.

The creak-and-hiss of the landing gear coming into place interrupted Estela's unnecessary instruction. She glanced at the door quietly, almost hopefully, but no one came to open it. Instead, they heard the sound of the exit ramp rolling into place, and Estela let out a sigh-either of relief or disappointment, Jaster couldn't tell.

"Well," She finally said, disappointment written across her features. "I guess this gives us more time to talk."

_Don't jump for joy over me, now._

* * *

Nar Shaddaa.

Referred to both affectionately and hatefully as the Smuggler's Moon, the planet's reputation preceded it. Criminals littered the streets in droves, a massive crime syndicate under the noses of every officer, though each officer was likely just as crime-ridden as the fellow beside him. It was a dirty planet, one in which the chaotic nature of the Force was prevalent and glaring.

Ivix stepped off _The Nexu's Smile_ onto this dirty planet. The smell was as shocking as ever, though he let none of his disgust show on his face. Dia trailing behind him, he made his way into the crowd, sifting seamlessly inside of it and was soon indistinguishable from the rabble.

Nar Shaddaa was an obvious stop before the next holocron location. He needed to see for himself this data Kaai had uncovered. His curiosity was piqued, as was his caution. He was sure it had much to do with Darth Traya's true nature, which he had begun to question. Her actions were beginning to break from all he had known about the limits of a Holocron, and Dia's initial doubt had furthered his own.

"Ah, Master." Dia said from behind him, catching his attention.

Without turning around, he replied, "Yes?"

"There's been something I've been meaning to tell you," She said, huffing a little with the effort to match his pace. "That holocron you were speaking to before, the one that... _kicked me out_," She said in an angry tone.

"What of it?" Ivix asked, feigning patience. He was trying to make sense of the holomap, which wasn't faring well in the poor atmosphere of Nar'Shaddaa.

Dia hesitated before saying, "I know you are certain it's a holocron. But when I was with her in there... I touched something.. in the Force. I think it was the holocron's... mind." She broke eye contact at Ivix's expression. "But that's impossible. Sorry. I was just..."

"No, no." Ivix shook his head. "Don't think like that." He pat her shoulder affectionately. "Anything is possible with the Force. For now, though, let's focus on the task immediately before us. We can worry about what you experienced later."

She nodded, and it wasn't long before her usual jaunting pace returned. Ivix smiled at how easily she was reassured and tapped at his holomap once more. After a few more adjustments the thing began to clear up, and in came a clear picture of the surrounding area. Catching sight of the _Beskar Manda_Cantina, he adjusted his route to approach it, and soon the two were at its entrance.

"Wait outside for now, Dia. I'll be with you shortly." Ivix said before entering, earning a malcontented sigh from her.

The blast of music and the smoke of death sticks greeted him . Paying it no heed, he ghosted along the wall before coming to a small table where two humanoids sat quietly, facing the door, one in a hooded robe, the other in full Beskar.

"_Se'cuy'gar Lian_." He said to the armoured one, "I take it you've had a look at Kaai's salvage?"

"Indeed I have, boss." The Mando said, removing her helmet, shaking her head to free her snow white hair. "And I have to say, it's some _Dini'la _stuff." She tapped the cybernetic implant on her ear, and the holocomm on the table activated. The fuzzy blue lights congealed to create a clear picture. It showed a security recording of Darth Traya ghosting around a republic ship, and the old mining facility. Sabotaging droids, silencing witnesses, and keeping surveillance on the man that had killed her in Ivix's original vision. 'Exile', she had called him.

"Okay, so she stalks a Jedi for the better half of a couple days. What else?" Kaai said, breaking her silence.

"It gets better. Watch this." With a thought from the cyborg, the recording shifted until it showed the woman talking with several men in mining uniforms. "This was the earliest recording in the databank, and it was the hardest file to break open."

Though fuzzy with static, the audio was comprehensible.

"Hey lady, weren't you dead in the Mourge?" One miner asked. "You walk pretty good for a dead broad."

"I may have appeared dead, but I have a nasty habit of surviving. You, however, do not."

"What'chu talkin' about lady?"

She raised an arm and tendrils of purple energy erupted from the chests of the gathered miners, leaving them empty husks. "Ah. Refreshing." She walked off camera, then appearing in the frame of another camera across the station. She looked into it, seemingly straight at Ivix. "Hello, future watcher. Can you sense the death of the force approaching? Can you sense the void closing on your heart?"

Ivix whistled as the hologram closed. "Well. That was definitely Darth Traya. It seems I was right to distrust the old woman, even in the form of a hologram."

"It's damn creepy is what it is. I couldn't transfer it out of my head fast enough." Lian said, "Are you sure you want to keep on after her? Never thought you had a death wish."

"Well, if it's dangerous, I of all people should have it. But if the teachings contained within are truly to the extent this recording testifies, I will destroy it. So far, however, all she's taught to me has been manipulation of the Force in its purest form."

"The death of the Force..." Kaai murmered with a shudder. "A terrible thought."

"Well, boss, the way I see it, I won't be getting many jobs from you if you can't shoot lightning from your hands. If you need help, my clan is at your disposal." Lian said. "For a Sith, you're a great Mando'a."

"_Vor Entye_. Thank you, Lian."

Kaai looked around. "So, where's your apprentice? I look forward to meeting her."

"She wandered off to follow Drakal about ten minutes ago." Ivix said as he took a mug of ale from a passing barmaid's tray. "She'll be fine."

* * *

The hum of the Lower Promenade's Cantina was almost soothing. It was a small bar, nearly entirely devoid of patrons save for the occasional soul trying to drown his sat in the far east corner, his back to the wall as he scanned the crowd for any sign of Delia's arrival.

Leaving the Ship had been easy. Ivix had been so impatient to get to his own business that Drakal easily slipped out without his notice. He'd taken the long way before heading to the Cantina, and had confirmed he wasn't being followed. He was free to conduct his own business as he wished.

On the far side of the bar, a commotion was roaring up. With little interest, Drakal glanced over. A crowd of muscled men were roaring at their defeat to a small alien in a game of cards, the alien's helmet's telltale markings revealing them as Mandalorian. Drakal rolled his eyes at what amounted to bugs bickering over who had the bigger dung pile. Credits were easily replaced if you knew how.

After a time, and after multiple games of whatever the idiots were playing, he decided a drink was in order. If nothing else, it would help drown out the cattle and their boring lives. Walking over to the bar, he slid into a bar stool and flagged down the bartender. It took physical effort not to recoil in disgust at the creature serving drinks here. A Rodian, his fly-like eyes looking over at him in mild interest.

"A Korriban Scorcher, on the rocks." Despite the name the drink had little kick, but he wanted his mind focused for his meeting. Looking around as the hideous creature concocted his drink, he saw the bar was still mostly empty except for the card players in the corner. They had just apparently finished a game, as they now sat back and laughed with each other over beers. Ignoring them once more, he turned back around to find his drink waiting for him and the bartender staring him down expectantly. After digging into his pocket he came up with enough credits to satisfy the beast, who then left him to his thoughts.

_Would she even show? _He wondered to himself. _That woman was nothing if not fickle. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if she-_

"Bartender, two more of whatever that last drink was. It's kickin' my ass." A synthetic voice next to him drew him from his thoughts and made him look over. A Mandalorian speaking through his helmet had sat down right beside him, practically elbowing him over.

"You might wanna take the helmet off first Darghan, that might impede your progress a little." One of the mans cronies snickered behind him drunkenly, but the small Mandalorian ignored it. After ordering his drink the armored thug had looked around the room idly before his eyes rested on Drakal. After rudely staring for a moment, the man nudged Drakals arm.

"Ey, aren't you a Sith? Whadda they call 'em? True-bloods?" After Drakal gave no response besides scooting over further in his stool, he tried again.

"Ey Sith, I'm talkin to you." He made as if to grab Drakal's shoulder, but his arm was caught in an iron strong grip before it touched.

"Do not, touch me." The man looked down at his caught hand for a moment, but then fiercely tugged it back as he stood up from his bar stool, now alert.

"Maybe you're new around here, fella. But Mandalorians make the rules here, not Sith. This isn't your precious fleet, or Korriban, the piss-hole that it is." The mercenary stood with his hands at his sides, near his holster, but hadn't made to grab it yet.

"Sith make the rules wherever we go, It's why we always win." His smile quickly grew as he too stood up from his barstool and reached his full height. Clearly, the man had miscalculated his height and weight from his slouching position at the bar, as now he stood there watching him. "Lets make this interesting, shall we? I'm waiting for someone and I would rather not get blood on my robes just yet, so I'm going to give you _one_," Drakal erected one finger in front of the mans face. "Chance to leave."

"Or what?" One of the mercs buddies called from the table behind him.

"Or, I kill each one of you, until you **run **out." Keeping a placid smile on his face as he watched them each glance at each other, Drakal grabbed his drink for one more sip.

_Waiting was getting boring anyway._

Cracking his neck and knuckles drew the men at the tables' attention, and they all stood from their seats facing him. Apparently the merc in front of him had finally regained his wits, as he began to speak in a slightly less confident voice than before.

"If we are gonna do this, why don't we do it right? Lets have a battle circle right here, right now."

"I don't have time for your pathetic attempts at honor, _mercenary._" He put as much emphasis on the word as he could. "But if you want to die, I'd be more than willing to oblige."

"Fine. The rules are simple. No Force, and no weapons. Hand-to-hand combat only."

"So it's pain you want? Fine by me." Drakal watched the man's friends ease their hands from their weapons before following the Mando to the middle of the cantina. The room had cleared out quickly once it became apparent that a fight was about to happen, but the bartender just looked on helplessly.

A circle was formed around him and the idiot from the bar stool, but he knew enough about Mandalorian "honor" that it didn't worry him much. He would still be ready to kill them should they break the rules, but he would play fair... for now.

"Anything inside the circle is forbidden from use, just your body. Ready, Sith?"

"Try not to disappoint me, Mandalorian. I'm in no mood for it today."

"We'll see what kind of mood you're in when I-" He stopped in mid-sentence as Drakal lunged across the intervening space. He immediately dodged a reflex punch thrown by the Mandalorian, who was already retreating from his bull rush. He knew his armored robes and the armor of his opponent inside out, war and killing were his business and he was damn good at his job. Instead of punching for the man's helmet or his torso, Drakal immediately went for his legs. A swift kick to the inside of his opponents knee sent him down to one leg, causing him to be uncentered for just long enough.

He brought his knee up to the man's head, connecting with a resounding crack of steel as his foe reeled backwards. the blow had not been meant to hurt really, just send him backwards onto his back. Jumping forward to straddle the mercenary, he was surprised when he felt the man's foot kick up into his stomach and send him staggering back a few steps.

_Idiot, do not underestimate even the common thug._

Regaining his balance, Drakal watched the man leap to his feet and assume a ready stance as if nothing had happened.

"That all you got, Sith?" The man taunted from a few feet away, watching Drakal for any signs of another charge. He wouldn't be surprised by that tactic again. Circling his foe warily, Drakal examined the mandalorian armor and it's condition. It looked scraped and cratered from blaster fire, but solid enough. That's when he noticed the helmet strap hanging loose beneath the man's chin. He hadn't remembered to re-strap it from his drinking session. If memory served, Mandalorian helmets were snug. _Very, _snug.

Smiling now, Drakal let his guard down a little. Not only was this man almost drunk, he was a raw recruit to the mandalorians. His stance and attacks were stiff and practiced, like he were fighting a test dummy.

"Taunts? Is that what the once great Mandalorians have been reduced to? And here I thought honor was central to your people. But all I see here is a group of thugs for hire."

"Don't push your luck, Sith. I've killed force users before, and I'll do it again."

"Ah but you've only fought Jedi, boy. We Sith, we're a bit different."

The Mandalorian snorted. "The only difference between you is your looks. And Jedi look better."

Without another word Drakal strode forward, as if walking through a park and not a care in the world. The merc shook his head in what Drakal guessed was amusement, but he just kept closing the distance with his hands at his sides. As he got within striking range, his opponent kicked out at his right, trying to distract him and put Drakal on the defensive, but he just slapped it aside and brought his other hand up to catch a punch in his palm. Slowly crushing the hand he had caught in his fist, Drakal watched as the man cried out in pain and sunk once more to one knee.

Letting go of the now ruined hand, he lashed out to grab the loose chin strap on his enemies' helmet, and used it as leverage to whirl his head far enough around to snap it with a sound like a tree branch snapping in two.

For a moment there was only silence, until the body fell with a heavy thud. His friends stood staring in disbelief, blinking rapidly as they took in the sight of their dead comrade.

"That, was pathetic." He said aloud to no one in particular. Giving one last look at the failure at his feet, he began to stroll to the bar.

"Hold it, buddy." Drakal stopped his slow walk back to the bar and turned around to see all five men staring at him hatefully. A small smirk on his face as he saw what they were all holding. In the short time it had taken him to walk towards the bar, they had all pulled their blasters.

"I won your little game, imbeciles. Unless you intend to go back on-"

"That wasn't supposed to be to the death! It was just a battle circle!" One yelled.

"I don't play unless the stakes are high. I suggest you all learn that lesson sooner, rather than later." Turning to face them all, Drakal took the _Dun Moch _stance, weight forward and head high in an effort to be as intimidating as possible. His hand near his saber on his belt.

"He was too weak to live, Only the strong survive." His words were filled with as much confidence as he could muster, his conviction plain as day to all who heard it. It was not a maybe, it was certain.

Drakal watched them all carefully, but slowly he began to frown. Something felt ... off. He felt an odd sensation washing over him, small at first, but growing steadily. He looked down at himself in an attempt to find what was causing this feeling, and his eyes finally came to rest on his saber hilt. It looked like it was shining brilliantly from its place on his belt, but he knew only a force user could see it.

_The crystal._ He thought to himself. He hadn't even thought about the thing very much since he'd gotten it, as it seemed to simply be another crystal . Granted it had called to him from a great distance, and was tuned to him and his power, but other than that it had felt exactly like any other crystal he'd used with a saber. This glow, on the other hand, was very much _not_ like anything else he'd ever used.

After a moment he realized the group before him was saying something.

"What happened Sith? A minute ago you were high and mighty, did you finally realize you can't win against all of us?" A human with a pistol spoke to him, and for a moment Drakal didn't understand what he was talking about.

_Ah, they saw my moment of confusion._

"No no, I'm far too inept to fight all of you, I'm sure." His sarcasm was thick enough to need a butchers knife to get through as he resumed his ready stance. "But just for kicks, why don't I try anyway?" With one last look at their friends, the group gripped their weapons tighter and grew tense.

"Gun 'em down!" Drakal didn't see which one yelled out first, but the eruption of blaster fire made him suddenly too busy to care. Spinning his saber for all he was worth he deflected and dodged every single last shot, and dove forward into their midst.

He stood quickly from the center of the attackers, and flung out a hand to his right, sending men sailing into the far wall, effectively chopping his foes numbers in half. Another on his left tried to kick him as he strode towards the remaining men; but as if of it's own accord the saber swung down and sliced the offending limb off at the knee. Drakal stared down at his hand in disbelief before coming to his senses and blocking more blaster fire from the two men who remained.

_What the hell was __**that?**_ He decided to worry about it later, but if his own saber was going to start fighting his will, he would break the damn thing himself. Walking towards the two mercs who still fired off random, now panicked shots, he decided to stop playing around. Prey was only entertaining if it knew how to fight back. Hurling his saber forward, he watched it catch one of the assailants throat, leaving a gaping black gash that made the man's eyes widen briefly before they glazed over and he fell to the floor.

The remaining thug now hung a few feet in the air, grabbing at the invisible hands closed around his neck with a crushing vice. He watched on with a toothy grin as the man's kicks slowly grew weaker and his eyes began to bug out. The face was growing purple long before the last feeble kick was given.

Drakal loosened his fist and the last man dropped in unison. But before he could walk back to the bar he heard a hauntingly beautiful voice from the entrance behind him.

"Mmmm, It's been awhile since i've seen you at work Drakal. Good to see you're keeping those big muscles in shape fighting common thugs." Her voice brought a smile to his face despite the jab at his pride, but he didn't turn to face her as he spoke.

"Yes, I suppose where I am now affords me little time for practice. Delia... It's been a long time." He finally turned with that last sentence to find her right in his face. She was as beautiful as ever, her dark red hair in waves down her shoulders framed a gorgeous face. High cheekbones and pale skin, with full lips that always seemed as if on the verge of smiling. Green eyes bordered by black eyeliner gazed at him lazily.

"A long time, hmm?" She had a small frown, but her close proximity allowed him to see the nuances in her expression. She was upset alright.

"I know we left on.. less than perfect terms, but I thought you wouldn't mind-"

"Dropping everything for someone who dropped me like a bad habit once his master told him to?" Her eyes flared as she said it quietly to him, but she had taken yet another step closer, now only inches from him.

"Yes, I left. And I am sure you would have done the same in my shoes. When he finally died, My master was weakening, but he was not completely helpless. If i had disobeyed then, I would be a stain on the academy floor." He hissed at her, trying to make her understand was proving harder than he'd imagined.

"And afterwards? When he was no more, did you even _try_ to contact me?"

"I... no." He focused his eyes on hers, trying not to display an ounce of weakness. Delia just shook her head, her lips a smooth line that practically shouted of future violence. She would likely go and kill or break something after this conversation, he just had to make sure she didn't try it on him.

"So why did you call me here Drakal? As much as I've wanted to speak to you these years, I _do_ have things to do." Her question made him hesitate a moment, as he hadn't really thought about how to approach the matter fully. He used the break of eye contact to look around the room.

"Let's talk about this somewhere more private." He kicked one of the dead mercs with a boot as he walked towards the door. "These will start to smell soon anyway."


	18. The Power Shift

The Power Shift

Time trudged by slowly on the ship. The emptiness of the silence following their last, meaningless conversation was eating at Jaster and inciting vexation in his mind. Across from him, Estela had closed her eyes and fallen into meditation. He felt uncomfortable looking at her, and dropped his gaze as soon as it landed. Eyes turning to the door, he imagined the twi'lek Sith returning and pulling him from this place. It was growing akin to torture. Being stuck in here, boredom would eat him alive.

A sigh escaped his lips, and Estela stirred.

Her eyes opened, her gaze a silver ice.

"What is it?" She asked. Jaster shook his head. Now it was Estela's turn to sigh. "You're restless, I can feel it. It's making it difficult for me to concentrate."

"What exactly are you doing?" He asked.

She leaned back on the bunk, it creaked at the movement. "It's an inward-focusing technique. I'm trying to find a place where my emotions and what the Jedi have taught me find a common ground."

"What do the Jedi teach?"

She shot him a suspicious look, but answered nonetheless. "They teach that emotion will overcome you, and lead you to evil deeds. That darkness lingers at the doorstep of every rush of anger, every pull of passion, and every slump of sorrow. And any other emotion besides."

He stared at her incredulously, and she looked away, discomfort coloring her features.

"It follows the first line of the code; _There is no emotion, there is peace_." She pushed back a loose strand of hair with one hand, eyebrows furrowing. "But I'm... I don't know if I can go back to that way of thought. The Sith... it's as though he stained me with his darkness." Her gaze dropped to her hands, that slowly clenched into fists. "Anger swells up in me with the very thought, and disgust beside it. I have no control over my emotions any longer, like I've been broken. It's a scar that will not heal, not with any technique that I've been taught, so... I have to find another way, so that I can have the power to..." She trailed off, eyes trembling in thought. Finally, she sighed. "...I don't know..."

The puzzle pieces seemed to fit together with her words; her strange, 'off' behavior when she came on the ship now following a clear explanation.

Estela was hesitating, and then she gripped her hands together as the words spilled out. "Dia showed me something that made me think it could be possible, that the Dark Side, or emotion itself, is not much more than a tool that can be used according the will of its wielder, as it would be with the Light Side. Because we are more than just the emotions that possess us for a time, and the Force answers to this emotion within us, it would only make sense that..." She trailed off. "But I'm still.. filled with so much worry. That I'll just fall into a single emotion, and it will control me. I don't know if I'm strong enough to wield such power, and I think it would, before that, wield me instead."

Jaster nodded slowly, trying to take in this surprising confession in its entirety. He hadn't thought she would ever reveal quite so much about herself. At least, not to him. He recognized the vulnerability in such an act, and tried to find the words that would reassure her, and not condemn her.

Yet, none came. An uncomfortable silence filled the small space, before she looked back up at him.

"I guess I.." He cleared his throat. "Still don't quite understand what you're telling me. The overall picture I can get. But the rest," He hesitated. "Seems like it's more complicated, and that you'd need a Jedi for advice... or someone that understands it as well as you do."

She nodded, but her eyes were growing cold, he could see her guard coming back up.

Not wanting the silence to return, he said the first thing that came to mind in desperation.

"But I can understand the second thoughts on the Jedi. I've seen enough about them to know that their mentality doesn't work. It's just unrealistic."

A frown colored her face. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, as a soldier I saw plenty of it. They wait when they should act; they speak when they should kill. They have power, but they fall over themselves trying to keep from using it. They claim to value life, and yet they are the cause of so much death throughout the Galaxy."

She let out an explosive sigh. "I'm not in the mood for this, Jaster..."

"No, hear me out," He said quickly.

"You're speaking in ignorance. It's infuriating." She said with a glare.

"I'll just.. I'll say what I do know, then. What I saw, and what I heard. You can explain to me what I lack then, does that work?"

She closed her eyes, and nodded through the irritation.

An exhausted sigh escaping him, Jaster found himself struggling for a starting point. Her eyes on him were no help. He put a hand to his mouth as thoughts swirled in his mind, memories and concepts alike. A sense of trepidation was filling him, and he knew why. He was about to bare himself before someone, about to reveal all there was within his mind.

He stole a glance at the Jedi, wondering if any of this was worth it.

It wasn't. But she had shared something with him, and he wanted to share something back, even if he had little to give.

He met her gaze.

"I'll start with some context, so you can understand fully my view on this."

At her nod, he drew in a breath, and slowly let it out. The words followed.

"I was nothing before I joined the Republic. Born into a family of nothing, and raised by a father with nothing, I chased doggedly after nothing." His lips twitched, and he lowered his head. Estela shifted impatiently. "See, Dantooine is a husk of a planet, a corpse that the Jedi pillage for secrets, and see no more use for. It was obvious, all of us knew this, we all knew that we were seen in their eyes as the refuse of the universe, some leftover trash they were too proud or too lazy to get rid of."

"What?" Estela said, her head tilting disdainfully. "The Jedi? You're sure?"

He resisted rolling his eyes at her ignorance. "Yes, I'm sure. Two masters and their apprentices were stationed there until I was old enough to be drafted. They made themselves pretty clear about what they thought of us."

She crossed her arms. "Really."

Jaster mimicked the movement. "Yes, really. But that's not the point." And under his breath, he muttered, "Cripes, Jedi, have some self-control."

Her sharp glare informed him she heard that. But he continued his story before she could say anything more.

"Right. Anyway." He scratched the back of his head as he grasped his past once more. "My father, and the people I grew up knowing, they all accepted the lot they had been handed. The Order bringing relief supplies to the Jedi while the people of Dantooine died of hunger, the Jedi hoarding their technology, kicking away the beggars clutching at their robes... they all accepted it all with cowering, bowed heads. We were nothing, born into nothing, and would always be nothing. No matter how much we hated them, no matter how much we loathed this reality, there was no escape except in death. I was like them at first, thinking those same thoughts. But when the Republic, with their war, came calling for us with their soldiers and their ships, hope for the first time came to us. We thought we were offered a chance to live."

Jaster closed his eyes tightly.

"But it wasn't long before I found out they were offering us a chance to die. I was twenty when they came, trained us, made us strong. Well, strong_er_. As soon as we could fire a rifle straight, they sent us off to Ashas Ree."

He saw her eyes widen at this. He imagined wistfully that there was even some concern in the expression before she recovered her usual aloofness.

"I've heard tales of that harsh battle," She breathed. "In the heart of Sith Territory, lead by Master Ven and the Jedi, the Republic launched a heroic attack, trying to end the war in haste. It was a tragedy that it ended so-"

"Estela. Forget what you were told." Jaster met her eyes. "I was there. I can tell you what the battle was like. I can tell you what the battle was about."

She restrained her words, her lips thinning at the effort. She gestured that he continue.

And he was suddenly unsure if he should. The shadows of the past had long roamed his mind, plaguing his heart and making his soul as bitter as the caf he drank. The hatred that nested there was impenetrable, untouchable. He glanced at the woman before him. What if his words infected her with the same?

He looked up at her past his lowered brows.

Estela stared back, unwavering. She touched her fingers together as she waited for him to continue. She could feel the fear on him, the uncertainty coloring his words. When he met her eyes with a look of apprehension, she stared back unblinkingly. It seemed to give him strength.

"We were told that the Jedi would lead us to victory." He said with a sigh. " 'They have abilities we normal folk know nothing about. They can leap through a blaster bolt, heal your every wound, see through time itself." He snorted briefly to himself, but kept his sarcastic amusement under the surface before continuing on.

"The hope that came with being led by a Jedi knew no bounds. When we weren't training, we were celebrating our future victory. Every soldier on board believed in the Jedi. Their very presence was a testimony."

" 'It is sure to be a victorious fight', they would say. 'Where else would a Jedi lead us, except to victory?' " He let his voice trail off as the memories flooded in.

"Victory..." _The screaming. Chaos. Thrown in every direction._ "It was a slaughter." He breathed very shallowly, his own breaths barely audible to him even in the thick silence in the room. His gaze had shifted along the ground to his hands.

He dropped his head into them, covering himself. The shadows brought him comfort, and they made him strong.

_The crackle of fire._

"The Jedi pulled out once the Sith came in. They handed us over to death. They didn't see us or our lives as valuable. They saw nothing but their Force, and abandoned us as soon as their interests no longer coincided with ours. I only _survived_ because of _luck_. When the Sith swept for survivors, my brother's corpse covered me, and their soldiers didn't bother to look beneath it. So many were dead." He looked up. "But what do the Jedi care? They care for nothing but their force. They are self-serving people claiming to serve others. Hypocrites, deceivers, and the stiff-necked make up their company. They abandon you when you need them and help you only when it serves themselves to. And their Jedi Code justifies it all."

"All Jedi are this way?" She prodded.

"They are. They are trained to be this way." Jaster raised his head, squinting a bit at the light. "They are surrounded by this mentality. They have no other choice but to follow it."

Estela frowned. "You see me the same way?"

"Well, I.." He looked down at his hands again. "No, I don't." Hesitantly, he met her eyes. They pierced right through him. "You're different, somehow."

A flash of surprise passed through her expression, and she looked at him like she had never seen him before, as though she were finally seeing him for the first time.

* * *

The Bar entertained the three friends for a good while, the Sith lord Ivix enjoying himself for the first time in what felt like years. His Mandalorian friend getting more and more drunk as she did her best to match him drink for drink, inciting Kaai to laughter.

"I've told you a thousand times, Lian." She said, leaning forward. "You cannot match a Twi'Lek on drinking, let alone a force user. Nine stomachs and Toxin Filtering assures my victory."

A slurred denial fell out of the Mandalorian's lips, causing another bout of laughter to ring out.

"Let your Cybernetics handle it. We need to get back to work, unfortunately." He sighed and sat up in his seat. "Kaai When we find this treasure the old woman keeps mentioning, we're going to need a dig team, people we can trust. Take the _Horn_ to the Reclamation Service's main naval base in the Ord Radama system, speak to Admiral Croft. He's an old friend of mine, and will follow me. Gather those that I have influence with and tell them to be prepared. I'll need archaeologists and fighters to protect this dig, Goddess knows how many will want this prize after we've dug it up. I will send you coordinates for our next planet. I want you to take a shuttle there, and then send it back on autopilot. You're with us now, I need the extra eyes and ears when we're knee-deep in a tomb."

"And what about me, boss?" The drunk Mando asked.

"The Reclamation Service's navy is all well and good, but it's not frontline troops. If Sith or the Republic come after it, I'd like to have some mandos on basilisks patrolling the skies and on the ground. If your clan could oblige?"

"We're on it. Not much work during this peace crap. Maybe one of your boys could dig up something shiny for us, or maybe some good scraps?"

"I guarantee you, there'll be enough glory to go around by the time we're done."

"Glory at an archeology dig? This I gotta see."

The three rose from their seats and went their separate ways, each leaving credits on the table to pay for their drinks.

As Ivix finally emerged from the winding streets and returned to the _Nexu's Smile_, he caught sight of four cloaked individuals waiting at the the ship's ramp. None of them were force sensitive. But the emblem on their cloaks flared a warning as recognition ignited in the Sith Lord's mind. It was an emblem that marked them as one of _the Emperor's Hand._

His look of surprise faded into a furrowed brow as he remembered how outdated he had always seen the Emperor's way. _Thirty years of letting the council rule, and now he wants back in? And to encroach on _**my**_ work? Not a fucking chance._ He thought to himself.

As Ivix moved toward them, the Hand in the middle moved forward to meet him, but stayed silent.

"Ah, so what brings the Emperor's hand all the way out here?" he asked. "With the old man so very busy, I'm surprised he has time for me."

"Do not flatter yourself." The leader said with a shake of his head, his face tendrils swaying with the motion. "The Emperor is not speaking to you. With the... weight of his schedule, he has sectioned himself off from the petty politics of the Sith, and I come to you as myself. Tell me, what has you bustling around the galaxy with such strange company?"

"A simple archaeological expedition." The Twi'Lek replied, trying his best not to sneer at the desperate worm before him. "Can you really not function without the Emperor pulling your strings? I'm only doing what I've always done."

"We know about your holocron." his abrupt and blunt answer caused Ivix's eyes to narrow.

"The wretch of old holds power still." Another of the Sith purebloods behind the speaker of the group quietly spoke aloud, as if to himself.

"Please. If I'd seen any ghosts, I'd let you know. And you should really be thanking me, I got Onderon under our control in less than a day." he tensed, and a small spark, barely static, dancing between his fingers and up his forearm. A warning.

"And it is for that that we have come to warn you. The crone's knowledge belongs to our Lord."

"Feh. So far all this holocron has given me is history lessons, ones I have already mastered. There is no power for you here. Now run along."

"He who holds the betrayer close, shall never fall. Oh but this was foreseen..."

"Very well, you have been warned. The emperor does not take kindly to those who take what is his."

"Well, Goddess forbid I touch one of the old man's toys. This find is mine, along with anything I discover. You should tell your boss to stop chasing ghosts." Ivix's words caused the man's eyes to narrow briefly, before he inclined his head ever so slightly and left, the rest of the emperor's hand in tow.

* * *

Dia stood against a light post across the street from a sleazy looking bar named in an alien script she didn't recognize. Exactly the type of establishment she would have avoided back when she was a Jedi. But that only added to the rush of excitement she felt.

She had followed Drakal through the crowded twisting streets with ease. It was obvious the man had no experience with sneaking around, he hadn't even attempted to mask his force signature.

_Not that it would have helped him. _She smiled to herself as she watched the fight brewing in the bar. She had to admit, the Sith was very good at finding fights on short notice. He hadn't been at the bar stool for more than ten minutes before some drunk bumped into him. Apparently that was all it took to set Drakal off.

Running a hand across the cheek he'd slapped earlier, she recalled the humiliation she suffered in front of Estela. She still wanted to repay him for that, but she found herself too fascinated by him to be truly angry.

The power that emanated from him entranced her. His saber had stabbed right through the Mandalorian's armor, a feat any Jedi knew was impossible. She brought a hand to her mouth, biting one finger. The strength he carried was saying to her "None can surpass me. None can touch me. I do as I please, and people go where I tell them to go."

She wanted it. She envied it with such a burning passion she feared it would consume her.

_No, no more fear. _

She would _let_ it consume her.

Dia strode into the sleazy bar with a proud stride. She barely crossed through the entrance before she caught sight of Drakal - even without his scarlet skin tone, his stature alone caught her eye, a massive muscled presence that was easy to catch in a crowd. She weaved through a twisting wall of dancers towards him, and stopped a few meters back, when her eyes landed on the woman beside him.

She had waves of vibrant red hair falling down her back that shone in the dim bar lighting. A human, she ran light fingers down Drakal's arm as he spoke to her in a lowered tone.

Dia felt something inside her clench up at the sight. Her stomach churned, and without thought she fell in between the two.

Drakal and the woman recoiled immediately from Dia's entrance, and Dia barely caught herself on the table, her hands slapping against the surface.

She could feel their stares on her, and her mind raced for a good explanation of her sudden presence.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Drakal growled.

"Friend of yours?" The woman said, crossing her arms with a wide smile. "Or are you trying to make me jealous?"

Drakal's mouth twisted into a smirk, and Dia, sighing, pushed herself up from the table.

"For now, I am neither." Dia said, staring placidly back at Drakal's harsh stare. "But, depending on you, I could be either."

"I don't have time to waste on you, Twi'lek." Drakal said. "Leave us, while I retain my patience."

Dia caught the woman's triumphant smile at Drakal's words, and glowered.

"I'm not here for a fight." Dia said, anger creeping into her voice. "I came to offer a trade."

"There's nothing you can offer me that I don't already have." Drakal said, unimpressed.

"You should hear me out before you make such judgements." Dia hissed.

The woman laughed openly, flashing pearly white teeth while her shoulders shook with mirth. She sucked in a breath, hand at her chest, and met Dia's angry gaze.

"Can't understand Basic, Twi'Lek?" She flicked a wave of red hair behind her shoulder, eyebrows raising in challenge. Dia's lips curled in disgust, inwardly changing gears. Swallowing her anger, she took a step back, hands up.

"This offer lasts until I lose interest in this place." _Which is right about now._ She gave Drakal a meaningful look. "You'll regret this."

"Pretty sure I won't." He said, amused.

Dia's hands clenched into fists, but as she took a step away from the two, a hand snaked out and grabbed her arm.

It was the woman, smiling at Dia's shocked face.

" Wait a moment love. You seem easy enough to deal with." She said. "He may not be interested, but," She tilted her head, amused. "...I might be. You're certainly cute enough after all. Come on, tell me what you have to offer." The woman's easy smile was surprisingly warm despite her earlier insult, and Dia found herself drawn back towards the table by the light but insistent tugging on her arm.

Now seated across from the two, Dia's eyes narrowed as she saw the woman slip an arm around Drakal and smile smugly.

"Go on, speak." The woman said as Drakal took a swig of his liquor. "What are you offering here?"

Dia sighed, relieving herself of the chafing annoyance. "I can offer.." She stared boldly at them both. "My allegiance."

Drakal scoffed and the woman shook her head. "You'll have to do better than that. Allegiances often tend to be... untrustworthy."

"Especially when coming from someone looking to betray their own master." Drakal said, taking another swig.

"I'll show you that my loyalty lies with you," Dia said fiercely. "As long as you promise me power equal to my labor. Lord Ivix has been... less than forthcoming when it comes to giving what he promised." Her previous indignation at being left behind and left in the dark regarding everything Ivix did was still burning inside of her, demanding vindication.

Drakal waved a hand dismissively. "Show us first, then talk to us." His nose crinkled disdainfully. "This is what you come here to say? Honestly, your master needs to try a little harder next time he tries sending one of his tamed squids to spy on me."

Dia huffed in annoyance, getting up to leave, but something in the woman's eyes stopped her.

"Show your loyalty in an undeniable way, Twi'lek, and you will be rewarded." She said.

Dia nodded slowly, glancing hopefully at Drakal, who sighed impatiently and motioned at her to leave.

And though the Twi'Lek left the sleazy bar with hunched, angry shoulders, inside her the seeds of treachery had taken root, and would not be easily discarded.

_He wants proof does he? I'll show him proof..._

* * *

_Hey guys! Sorry for the wait, but at least we got it to you! Love the reviews and feedback, and as always, would love to hear more! - Bahoogasmif, Revan and Nozz'Ivix_


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